


The Man of Tomorrow

by DiminutiveComicist



Series: DC Fanfiction Universe (DCFU) [1]
Category: DC Extended Universe, DCU (Comics), Man of Steel (2013), Smallville, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Insecurity, Lots of plot, M/M, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, Plot, Plot With Porn, Reimagining of the DCEU, Romance, Sexual Content, Smut, This will be long, Violence, Young Superman, actual person!Superman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 99,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23566912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiminutiveComicist/pseuds/DiminutiveComicist
Summary: Clark Kent returns home after a long trip away with a desire to help the world. Amidst his budding relationship with the girl of his dreams and the discovery of his heritage, an unknown figure liberates several prisoners from the Phantom Zone. In front of the whole world, Clark is fully tested for the first time - as Superman.
Relationships: Clark Kent & Lana Lang, Clark Kent & Lois Lane, Clark Kent/Lana Lang, Dru-Zod/Faora Hu-Ul, Lana Lang & Lena Luthor
Series: DC Fanfiction Universe (DCFU) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696285
Comments: 15
Kudos: 14





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This story is a repost of a previous one with the same title. I was unhappy with it and made dozens of edits, and am now re-releasing it on the archive and fanfiction.net. It'll have the same title over there too. I'll be posting chapters every week or so, so hopefully there won't be any long waits this time. This story will have its plot, but it is VERY Clark/Lana heavy and is first and foremost about them. Anyways, hope everyone who comes across this enjoys it! Thanks for reading :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The not-so-prodigal son returns.

Silence filled the white void, accompanied only by a large construction made of metal and crystal. Sound behaved differently here, as if this plane gagged the waves themselves. A being, as it liked to call itself, floated toward the entrance of the massive structure. It saw that the entranceway was unobstructed, and so went straight through to follow the long corridors until it found that for which it came. A small cell encased in a circular wall of woven crystal held a man with wavy black hair and a well-kept beard. He wore a black uniform made from some sort of interlaced material, one full piece from the neck all the way down to his feet. The man was facing the being’s right side and looked up upon noticing the light emanating from it. His eyes were unfocused. The being spoke.

_ <Dru-Zod, commander of the forces of Krypton.> _

_ <Until my dying breath leads me to Rao’s light,> _ answered Zod. He squinted but his eyes remained unfocused, belying his composure. His voice came out muffled as it always did in this plane, but the other’s voice was clear.

< _Your story is not yet finished. > _

Zod’s face took on a pensive look. This being produced a small device from its hand and placed it onto the crystal casing of the cell. The entire perimeter melted and disappeared, along with the device. Zod stood up.

 _ <Bring them,> _ the being commanded. < _All of you have been chosen. > _

Zod walked into the corridor and got his first good look at the being. It had the visage of a man, but many parts of its body were visibly scarred and damaged. Those that weren’t were covered in different metals, some of which Zod recognized and some he did not. Though sure of it at first, he was now reconsidering if this being was Rao made flesh. It spoke Kryptonian flawlessly, yet it did not look like anyone or anything he’d ever seen on his planet. Regardless, he was not foolish enough to decline the opportunity for escape. His eyes flickered to its forehead, where the being’s light was coming from. Upon it sat three glowing orbs.

 _ <I do not serve you. Only Krypton,> _ said Zod.

_ <Then do what you have been made to do.> _

Krypton had been a mess of war, betrayal and fear when he was imprisoned. He could remember the treachery of a man he had once called friend. A Council of fools, an unstable core. Zod was groomed from young to be a soldier. The only things he knew were war, conflict, and devotion to his home. Desperation drove him to seek any means necessary to save Krypton, but even though Zod was imprisoned in this realm outside of time while his planet still stood, he knew in his soul that when he escaped, Krypton would not be waiting for him.

_ <There is no Krypton to serve. It is gone.> _

_ <It does not have to be,> _ said his emancipator. _ <It could be made anew, upon another world. I am sure this is not the first time you have heard this notion.> _

Zod eyed the being warily, but could not get a read on it. < _What have you to gain from this? > _

It did not answer immediately, but looked upon the bearded man with a mildly curious expression, as if in the middle of deciding whether or not to act on a whim.

_ <Knowledge.> _

Zod stared. He did not trust the person in front of him. Unfortunately, it was the only thing with the means to escape the unholy prison in which Zod found himself. He relented, because even more than wanting to escape, he wanted to see his home flourish once more. _ <Krypton will live again.> _

The being produced another device, this one considerably bigger than the last. It handed it to Zod smoothly. _ <This prison was made from your war vessel, as you know. I presume you still possess the ability to pilot it.> _

_ <I do.> _Zod answered flatly. The Council had not expected any of them to escape, and had decided to add insult to injury when sending them to this dimension. How did it know that?

 _ <Then the Phantom Zone will no longer hold you. Activate this when you and the others are ready.> _ The being began to fly back the way it came before Zod called back to it.

_ <You have divulged nothing. I know not who you are, nor what you want. What is it you expect from us upon our departure? Why should we follow your direction?> _

It turned back to the Kryptonian, a look of something resembling amusement on its face. _ <Your transport from this place does not have to be one-way.> _

Zod’s jaw twtitched. Thinly-veiled threats did nothing to enlighten him. Regardless, it seemed he would have to play along. _ <What is this world we are to conquer?> _

The being uttered one last sentence before disappearing. _ <Those who inhabit it have called it Earth.> _

************************

March had just begun and the days were getting longer still, but hope for spring faded into memories of early winter. The sky appeared to agree, overcast with dark clouds blocking the stars from view. The only solace for the man driving his pick-up truck down an old dirt road was the heat that came with the mild breeze into his open window. The familiar smell of earth and livestock wafted even more strongly as he slowed down and turned left past a sign that read: KENT FARM.

He stopped and cut his headlights off when he got close to the small yellow house at the end of the path. The light was on in the kitchen. Listening to the sounds that came from the house, he could tell someone was watching the news, or at least listening to it on the radio. The man looked at his watch, an old, priceless thing with a worn leather strap and a white face that read 6:02. No matter what, the news was always on at six.

After grabbing a small bag from the passenger seat, he stepped out of the truck and walked to the front door. He slipped the keys in his twill jacket, the beige of which was a stark contrast to the red and black plaid flannel shirt he wore over blue jeans. He rang the doorbell.

The sound of short footsteps came through the closed door. When it opened, a woman in her sixties stood in the doorway across from him, wide eyes accompanying an even wider smile as she realized who it was.

“Clark!” she exclaimed, immediately reaching up to give the man a hug.

“Hey, Ma,” the man answered, smiling wide enough to match his mother. She pulled him inside. “Is that apple pie?”

“You haven’t even been here ten seconds,” the woman laughed. She was wearing a stained white apron over a gray cardigan. Her graying brown hair was pulled back in a loose bun. “But yes, it sure is. It’ll be ready soon so wash up and you can have some.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Clark, complying enthusiastically. He might be a bit biased, but his mom makes the best apple pie. Hell, he’d just had some in Stockholm a week before but he’d come to the same conclusion then, too – nobody makes apple pie like Martha Kent.

“You should’ve told me you were coming. I would’ve cleaned up beforehand,” Martha scolded her son with kind eyes. Clark looked around and immediately saw the mess; there was one dirty glass in the sink.

“Yeah, the place is a real pig sty,” Clark replied with a smirk. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Color me surprised, then. Where’ve you been this time?”

“Everywhere,” he answered. “I didn’t plan to country-hop at first, but I just got swept up in it, you know?”

“Mm-hmm. You were gone a lot longer than I thought you'd be.” The small white timer on the counter dinged, and Martha took the pie out of the oven. “Take this for a second?”

The metal pan was scalding hot, but Clark took it easily with bare hands. Martha set her oven mitts together on the table, and Clark set the pan on top of them. Clark bent over the table and blew on the dish softly. A gust of cold air engulfed the pie, and he sustained the breeze just long enough for the dessert to set. Too long and it would freeze. He got a knife and some dishes and cut them both a piece. “I wouldn’t really say I enjoyed it, but…it was exactly what I needed.”

“How so?” She was in full mom mode now. Clark wondered how best to begin. He remembered the sightseeing, the days spent in libraries speed-reading to learn new languages, the hours of YouTube videos watched to acquire new skills, the hitchhiking, the people suffering from physical and mental disease, the tastes of dozens of different cultures, and every minute he spent talking with someone new. How could he possibly explain how both connected and disconnected he felt with every person he ever came across?

“Dad always said I would change the world. The last time he said it, I said ‘what if I don’t want to?’” He scooped a bit of pie into his mouth and chewed with a serious face. “He said that one day it wouldn’t matter, because I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I didn’t understand what he meant until now.”

“Your father had a knack for getting to know people better than they know themselves,” Martha said, digging into her own slice of pie. She smiled sadly before putting on a much more jovial expression. “Now come on, spit it out. What’d you learn? What did you see?”

He didn’t want to put a damper on her mood, but he needed his mother’s guidance. It was a big part of his decision to come home. “You and Dad taught me that no matter what, the good outweighs the bad. But...in some places it's just not true. I never thought I'd witness _evil_ the way I have. Or how people ignore it or refuse to acknowledge that it exists at all. Most of us just try to push through, make our own ways in the middle of all the bad. People think it’s just the way it is, and they can’t do anything about it.”

They both sat quietly at the table, finishing their pie. On the television in the living room, a news anchor talked solemnly of a school shooting that had taken place in Lawrence. Nineteen high school students were injured and six were in critical condition. It was a miracle nobody had died. Clark went back to staring at his empty plate. Nothing like that ever happened in Smallville, but he’d heard of another, deadlier one that happened in Florida a couple weeks before.

“So many want to make the world a better place," he said. They just don’t know how. It would take all night to tell you all the places I’ve been, but each new place only ever made me surer. Dad was right. I don’t want to sit here focused on just myself and my life.”

Martha smiled. She and her late husband Jonathan had talked about this day many times, and she couldn’t have been more proud of her son. She only wished Jonathan could be here.

“Will you be using your powers?” she asked, sensing Clark’s hesitation to continue.

“That’s the part I can’t decide. For the past few months I only used them sparingly and never in front of people. I’ve been trying to live like a normal person. Loads of people have made positive impacts on big and small scales without powers, so I figured I’d see if I could do the same. Starting small, of course.” Clark smiled sheepishly. He and his mom both knew he had a natural desire to come rushing out of the gates in every situation that made him excited, even though his tendency to over think things usually made him careful. “So what do you think?”

“I think that I’m very proud of my darling little boy,” Martha answered.

Clark chuckled. “I’m six-three, Ma.”

Martha dismissed him with a good-natured wave of her hand. She looked across the table into her son’s blue eyes and sighed. “Your father and I knew this day would come. Ever since that time we thought you disappeared. Remember that, around eighteen years ago? Gave us quite the scare.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m not mentioning it so you can apologize again, honey. It’s about where we found you. You were at the Lang farm. You’d finished helping Jonathan with the chores so you walked up the road to see if they needed any help with theirs.”

“How could I forget,” muttered Clark. “It’s the only time I saw Dad lose his temper. It was pretty scary.”

“Until you told him why you left. Then he hugged you and cried like a baby straight out of the womb, he was so proud. Nobody ever had to teach you how to be a good kid. You just were.” Clark could tell she was reliving that day in her mind. His mother’s face was full of too many emotions to count. “Now, I can’t tell you what to do with your powers. You’ll have to figure that part out on your own. All I know is that the two most important things someone needs to change the world for the better are a good heart and a good mind, and you’ve had those since you crashed here in that hunk of metal. But I will say this, too: you don’t owe this world a thing. I love that this is something that you want, but always remember that you don’t have to. Okay?”

Clark hadn’t expected that response, but was happy his mother supported him either way. He nodded.

“Good,” she said, picking up their plates and forks and handing them to Clark. “Now you can start by doing the dishes. And you can only have one more slice of pie while you’re here. I’m saving the rest for the Langs since they’re coming over tomorrow to finalize our sale of the farm.”

Oh, right. He’d forgotten that they’d talked on the phone about selling the farm and moving to Keystone City a couple months before. Clark wouldn’t be in Smallville forever and Martha was getting old trying to tend the farm herself, even if she did have help from the neighbors’ three sons.

“Is Lana coming?” he asked. Martha smirked. Her son had had a crush on Lana since they were thirteen, and even though they’d gone their separate ways after high school Lana would always call to see if Clark was around whenever she made it back to Smallville.

“I don’t know, honey. I haven’t heard from her in a while. Last time I checked she was still at the university in Central City. Why don't you go and visit? It’s just a little over an hour out and I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

Clark shuffled across the kitchen awkwardly and silently started with the dishes. Not one to be ignored, Martha followed and leaned against the counter a foot away from him with an expectant look. He sighed.

“I don’t want to bother her. She’s off doing her own thing and she loves the city. I don’t want to distract her or remind her of home. She never exactly loved Smallville.”

“Small towns ain’t for everybody, Clark, but I doubt she’d have a problem with seeing those baby blues.” Clark rolled his eyes. His mom patted him on the arm. “Give her a call. It’s Friday and it's early. That's what you've got a cell phone for, ain't it? To use it?”

“Okay, Mom.” Done with the dishes, he took his phone out of his pocket.

“Those two love science so much but wouldn’t notice chemistry even if it bit them in the booty,” his mother mumbled.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Clark called. Martha sat back on the couch to continue watching the news, not answering. Clark shook his head. “I’m gonna head out to the storm cellar to check on my ship, okay?”

“Okay, but if you see any little green people, don’t tell them I’m home.”

The storm cellar was surprisingly clean, at least as clean as a small underground bunker can get. Clark was starting to wonder if all mothers were neat freaks. He had never been a slob by any definition, but he didn’t exactly mind some clutter either. Not that he'd ever leave anything resembling a mess here at home, of course.

Clark sat at the bottom of the stairs and made the call. It rang a few times, and then he heard her voice. “ _Hey there. You’ve reached a female person’s voicemail. If you recognize this voice, leave a message. If you don’t, feel free to never call again. Bye!_ ”

Hearing Lana's voice made him realize how much he’d missed her. It had been months since they last spoke. “Hey Lana, it’s Clark...which you could probably tell from the caller ID. I was, uh, just calling to see how you were doing. I know we haven’t spoken in a while so I was hoping we could catch up. Call me back when you can. Bye.”

He stood up. _Not the smoothest message but certainly not the worst,_ he thought. In the far corner of the room was a giant brown tarp, which he pulled to reveal a silver ovoid-shaped metal object whose sides were streamlined into soft edges. It was almost as long as he was tall yet just as wide as he, and not for the first time he wondered why a child so small would need something this large for travel.

It had taken him years after his parents explained the circumstances of his “adoption” to figure out how to open the thing. The onset of puberty (and his powers coming in full force) probably hastened his parents confession, but Clark remembered being more scared and confused than angry at their dishonesty. Finding out he was more than just a human with abnormal abilities - a real live alien - was more than he could handle at eleven years old. He ran away upon hearing the news, running faster than he ever had before, and didn't stop until he'd climbed the windmill in Evan's Field. Clark remembered spending the rest of the day up there wondering where he was from for the first time, imagining what life could have been like some place far away.

He placed his palm on the underside of the pod, close to the front. In the center of the top face glowed a small symbol: a pentagon with what looked like the letter “S” inside of it. The glow subsided, but the glyph stayed. Clark pressed it and felt it sink lower into the surrounding metal before it disappeared under the top layer. The metal surrounding the newly-made hole slid backward into itself, making the hole bigger until the entire top half of the pod was open.

There were three objects inside. One was a small, round, opaque crystal that was much softer to the touch than expected. The second was a dodecahedron the size of a softball, seemingly made of both metal and crystal and with a hole through the center of it. The last object was a long red sheet that was impossibly soft. The material was unlike anything he’d seen before or since.

Clark’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out with one hand while picking up the metal and the crystal with the other. Lana’s name appeared on the screen. He opened the text message.

_Hi!! Sorry I’m in class right now but I’ll call you right after. Your mom told me you went on a trip, so you better tell me all about it :)_

Clark smiled at the message and responded immediately. _Deal. Now pay attention to your professor._

She texted back just as quickly. _NO_.

Deciding not to be a distraction, he stashed his phone and let his hands fiddle with the other two objects. He scanned the 12-sided shape for buttons or switches for the thousandth time before inserting two fingers into the empty space at its center. Thinking it was an oddly pretty thing, he examined it closer, seeing that the metal of it was fused on top of the crystal in a way that made it hard to discern where one ended and the other began. His fingers skimmed the edge while he rotated it, flexing his hand so that they pressed against the sides to hold it in place. The crystal’s edge began to push back.

Clark yelped and dropped the object in surprise. He watched it hit the dirt with a soft thud and waited. Nothing happened, so he picked it back up and looked at the hole up close without touching it this time. The hole had tried to close around his fingers. Obviously something was supposed to fill the whole, but his fingers didn’t seem to be a plausible solution. So what the hell was supposed to go in there? The only other thing he had was –

Oh. Duh.

Clark realized he was still holding the smooth round crystal from the pod in his other hand and brought it up to measure it against the hole in the other object. He chastised himself for being so dense. Granted, he hadn’t looked inside his ship often, but either way it made him feel hilariously stupid for not thinking of it. Slipping it into the hole, he watched as the two different crystals started to fuse together before the outer metal casing melted away. A few seconds later, he was left with a small octahedral crystal as clear as glass.

The crystal in his hand seemed to take on a life of its own, shining and vibrating so strongly that even he had to tighten his grip to keep a hold on it. He looked around to find the cellar awash in a blue-white light as the intensity of the vibrations reached its peak. The crystal flashed, and the light became too bright to see anything at all.

For a few moments, he stood motionless with his eyes shut. The crystal seemed to be done with its show, now calm and unmoving in his outstretched hand. All seemed normal again, save for the violent gust of wind that blew into his right side. That was odd. One does not normally feel wind when inside a closed underground space. He opened his eyes.

All around him was white. Wisps of mist flew this way and that, blending with the frost that rose off the ground. Clark looked down and realized he was standing on ice. Where the hell was he?


	2. The First Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fortress...and Lana.

The only noise in his immediate area was from the wind, so he focused on extending his auditory range. He heard signs of animal life and the telltale hum of human civilization several miles away. _At least I’m still on Earth_ , Clark thought with an incredulous chuckle. He took his phone out while slipping the crystal into his right jacket pocket, which he regretted immediately. He’d forgotten that that pocket had a sizeable hole in it he’d neglected to fix, so the crystal went straight through his jacket and bounced on the ice next to him. Instead of coming to a stop, however, the crystal sank into the ice where steam started to billow out from underneath it. The ice cracked at Clark’s feet and he immediately jumped up, willing himself to stay in the air.

The air exploded with the deafening sound of the glacier beneath him splintering into thousands of pieces as something came shooting upward through the ice. Scores of translucent crystal columns surged toward him, forcing him to take off higher into the sky to avoid getting hit. After about two seconds, he stopped and floated, looking back down to see he was about a couple thousand feet off the ground. The columns continued to grow skyward.

“Holy crap.”

Clark watched as the crystal structures grew and weaved along each other. Eventually they stopped, and he found himself in awe of the colossal formation. The whole thing was almost a third of a mile wide and easily over 500 feet tall at its highest point. Columns of crystal stood diagonally, crisscrossing one another in all directions. There was an austere beauty to it, as if it were designed solely for practicality and not at all for comfort. Clark flew around the perimeter of the structure twice, x-raying all of it. He hadn’t come across anything on earth that could hurt him yet, but given that this was very clearly alien tech tied to him, he wasn’t going to take any chances.

There didn’t seem to be anything inside, so he flew back around to find an opening. Most of the crystal columns had grown close enough together to create a solid ceiling at the top of the erection, but there were still a few spaces present toward the center. He flew through one of them straight down into a large clearing in the middle of the structure. As he saw from the outside, there wasn’t much on the inside except for a small, raised semicircular block of crystal that faced an oddly flat piece of more crystal several yards away. It looked like a wall.

The original crystal that had transported Clark was nowhere to be found. His phone still in his hand, he unlocked the screen and was relieved to find he had cell service, though barely. He immediately went to Google Maps and turned his location on.

“Please be in the northern hemisphere at least,” he muttered. A couple seconds later, the map zoomed in and the blue dot meant to serve as his location was resting in the middle of a mass of light blue. He was in the Arctic Ocean, somewhere close to Greenland. “Swell.”

His phone vibrated as he stared at it, a notification popping up to tell him he’d received a picture message. It was Lana again, so he opened it immediately. She’d sent a selfie taken at an odd angle, with her dark orange hair falling over part of her face in messy waves. Below the picture was a message. _So bored. Somebody save me._

Clark smiled while his legs carried him forward seemingly of their own accord. He wanted to think of something clever to respond with, but his mind was too preoccupied by what had just happened to him. Curiosity won out, and he went to examine the raised platform jutted from the smooth, level ground. There were grooves and symbols all over it, almost like a computer keyboard, but he couldn’t discern any order to what he was seeing. He ran his hand idly over the surface, and eventually the platform began to glow from within. A soft golden light illuminated the crystal. Then it spoke.

_ <Greetings. I am Kelex.> _

Clark jumped at the sound. He didn't understand what it said, but it seemed to be automated. That gave him a small bit of confidence amid his fear and confusion.

“Um…hello there?” he answered. Even if there’s a language barrier, always start with salutations, right?

A soft whirring sound filled the air. Then Clark heard the voice again.

_“Greetings. I am Kelex.”_

Clark blinked. _Well, that’s lucky_ , he thought. He looked around the crystal monument once more, marveling at how advanced this technology must be. After being told by his parents that another planet was probably exactly where he’d come from, the rest of the universe both fascinated and terrified him. That’s exactly how he felt now.

“You speak English.”

 _“Yes, as well as thousands of other languages and dialects across Krypton’s record of the known universe,”_ answered the disembodied voice.

“Krypton?” The only krypton Clark knew was the chemical element, but something told him that wasn’t what it was talking about. An odd coincidence, if anything. “Who am I talking to right now?”

_“I am Kelex, the artificial intelligence assigned to this monument in memory of Krypton, the home of my maker, Jor-El. I am to assist in the protection and maintenance of this fortress, and am currently directed to answer only to Kal-El.”_

Artificial intelligence? Humans were just now barely scratching the surface on that kind of technology, but Kelex seemed pretty close to an actual person. Clark was astounded at how advanced Krypton must be. Well, aside from the interstellar travel, of which he was living evidence.

“And who is…Kal-El?” Clark asked, despite being almost completely positive of the answer. He held his breath regardless. He was close to freaking out.

Clark did not get an answer from Kelex. Instead, the light emanating from the platform intensified and two holographic images were projected upward from the symbol in its center. The first showed what looked like a map of space, with a celestial body highlighted to stand out from the rest. He assumed this was where Krypton was supposed to be. Clark didn't recognize any of the surrounding stars or constellations. He looked to the other hologram.

It showed a man with white-streaked black hair wearing a full length blue bodysuit made of an odd woven material. On top of it he wore what looked like a white robe, open down the middle and embroidered on the left chest with the same symbol Clark saw on his ship back in the storm cellar. The man had a hard, stoic face belied by kind eyes. They were a vibrant blue, like Clark’s.

 _“Kal-El, my son,”_ said the man in the hologram. His voice was deep yet soft, with a melodic lilt. The words were in Clark’s own first language, but wrapped in an accent he’d never heard before. _“You do not remember me, but I am Jor-El. I am your father. As you are viewing this now, I, along with all of Krypton, will have been dead for many of your years, leaving you the sole survivor of our world. I am sorry that I could not be there with you, Kal, but in order to spare you from the destruction of our home, your mother and I had to remain._

_“You will have grown up on Earth and lived among humans, but you must remember that you are not one of them. We sent you to this planet because of the similarities between its people and ours, in both visage and culture, but as you have likely already discovered, you can do extraordinary things no other human can do. This will be both a blessing and a burden for you, yet our hope is that with time and teaching you will thrive and deliver them from the darkness that consumes so many civilizations, the way Krypton never could be. I have gifted you with Kelex, my personal assistant, and Krypton’s complete archives comprising knowledge from the 28 known galaxies. Use them well, my son, and keep Krypton in your heart as you will always be in ours. Goodbye, Kal."_

Clark stared at the crystal platform with wide unfocused eyes as the hologram disappeared. His vision was blurry, and he rubbed his eyes to find them wet. For years he’d wondered where he came from, and now that he had answers he felt a kind of pain he hadn’t expected. He’d only just heard of Krypton, but knowing it had been destroyed felt worse than not knowing at all. In minutes, he’d been given a home and then had it ripped away.

But his name was Kal-El. His father’s name was Jor-El. He had an artificial intelligence under his command, and knowledge more extensive than anything Earth had to offer at his fingertips. He shook his head to clear it from the heaviness of it all. Only half an hour ago he was eating pie with his mom.

“Kelex…how long has Krypton been gone?”

Kelex answered immediately. _“In Earth’s measure of time, it has been forty-nine years, seven months and thirteen days.”_

Clark exhaled in a huff.

“Do you know when I was born, in Earth’s time?”

_“Your birth on Krypton coincides with the Earth date, at this geographical location, of February 28th, 1964. Due to partial time dilation as a result on your travel to Earth, however, your relative age would be that of someone born in 1989.”_

Clark smiled at that. Even when factoring in the distortion of time he was older than he'd thought. But that was more than enough information to deal with for now.

“Thanks, Kelex. Now, is there some sort of tutorial or user manual that comes along with all this?”

_“Yes. Would you like me to walk you through the basic functions and controls?”_

“Uh, yeah. That would be good,” said Clark, not really knowing where to focus since the voice continued to come from all around him despite the glowing platform. On an unrelated note, he found it interesting that the A.I. could use idiomatic expressions properly. “Thank you, Kelex.”

Kelex provided a detailed yet efficient description of its capabilities and the external controls on the platform. Clark found he could toggle through languages, give Kelex a robotic or android-like form, access formal archives of information spanning dozens of subjects, personalize the fortress’s security systems, synthesize hundreds of different materials both foreign and familiar, and even speed up or slow down any and all lessons themselves. The last part he utilized immediately after learning of it, as he was intent on maximizing his time and more than a little worried his mom would check on him to find him inexplicably missing. After absorbing the remaining basic lessons at 25 times the original speed, he stopped for a break.

Using some of the abundance of crystal around the structure, Clark crudely fashioned bits of furniture with his heat vision to suit the space. He sat down in the freshly-made chair closest to him and admired how quickly he’d adapted to all this. It felt like a dream, but he knew it wasn't.

His phone vibrated with a low battery message. Taking that as a sign to wrap things up, Clark quickly responded to Lana’s previous message with a heart emoji and walked back to the crystal platform to set the last commands.

“Hey, Kelex? The likelihood of someone stumbling across this is pretty slim, but I’m sure some satellites and Geiger counters have picked something up already. Cloak everything and make it so that nobody else finds this place, okay?”

Kelex answered immediately. _“Of course, Kal. Would you like intangible cloaking or dimensional cloaking?”_ Kelex had gone over these measures earlier, and Clark was still astounded that both these things were even possible.

“Intangible’s fine,” he said quickly. He wasn’t exactly ready to go dimension-hopping any time soon and didn’t feel the need to make it a necessity at the moment. “Thanks, Kelex.”

Clark donned his jacket before taking off into the air and departing through one of the spaces in the ceiling. He looked back at the crystal structure and watched it disappear as he flew higher, gaining altitude to avoid being seen. He assessed his phone’s GPS on the way up, saving the coordinates so that he knew where to come back to.

Once high enough, he started to fly southwest and gradually willed himself to hypersonic speeds. Making a mental note to ask Kelex next time of a way to make it home more quickly, he cruised uneasily with the realization of just how much he didn’t know. Clark could have asked about Krypton and his father, but he just wasn’t ready for it. All he wanted now was to get home, talk to Lana for a bit, and sleep for the next twelve hours.

Eventually he made his descent, cruising slowly beside Keystone City and then gliding out over the highway until he saw a large sign that read: SMALLVILLE. He checked his watch and was happy to find he’d made it home before nine.

One shower later, Clark was lying on his bed and staring at the blank ceiling above him. The last few years had been so full, but he felt like it had just blown by and now everything was catching up to him. College in Denver was over before it really began since he overloaded his life with courses year-round. So many young people like him had the expectation that they were supposed to have everything figured out by graduation, but just like the majority of others he had never felt more lost than when he’d come home. He was lucky to have earned a few scholarships both before and during college, but the lack of financial burden was filled by a mental one. The nagging need to fly away gripped him and sent him all over the world to find some sort of meaning or sense of home. Clark loved his mother and he loved Smallville, but he’d felt out of place even before he was told he wasn’t human. The only thing that made him feel human was spending time with strangers in foreign countries and living to enjoy company.

He’d been anxious about bringing up the prospect to his mother but she gave him nothing but encouragement when he did. She reassured him countless times that she’d have help on the farm, and with Jonathan’s life insurance policy and her pension from her tenure as Smallville’s sheriff, she wouldn’t want for money in the short term.

It was liminal timeframes like these where the melancholy of being a 25-year-old extraterrestrial weighed upon him. Clark was in a mood to brood further, but alas, it was not to be. Charging on his nightstand, his phone buzzed. It was Lana again.

_Turn on your laptop. We’re video-chatting in five minutes._

Clark raised an eyebrow at the text. Lana was quite the assertive woman, but could be very soft and sweet when she wanted. Like now, she usually gravitated toward the former. Happy to have her take his mind off things, he grabbed his laptop from the desk, turned it on and carried it back to his bed before answering her.

_Rather presumptuous of you._

When his computer finished booting up he went on Skype. His phone buzzed again.

_Quite. One might even call it brazen, forward or audacious. But if you don’t I’ll kick your ass :)_

Clark saw her username with a green dot next to it pop up, so he clicked the video call option. A couple seconds later, he saw her face.

Lana’s cheeks were flushed and her hair was damp, strands of it sticking to her temples and forehead. Her face was covered in freckles as always, but the light on her end made the ones on her nose and cheeks stand out darker. She was cross-legged on her bed wearing long mismatched socks and a large red shirt that said: CENTRAL CITY UNIVERSITY. Whatever lamp she had on made it so that she was awash in gold, and when she tilted her head with a wide smile at seeing her friend pop up on her screen, her brown eyes captured the light and glowed.

“Hi, Clark.”

Clark was never so grateful to have super speed and enhanced perception than in that moment, because he knew he would’ve never been able to stop himself from staring. His eyes drank her in for what felt like minutes but were surely only seconds to her.

“Hey, Lana. What’s up?” he answered as passively as he could. She was holding a pen and a spiral notebook in her lap, and Clark was thankful to have something else to look at for a moment. She seemed to have been scribbling something in it when she answered the call.

“Just got back from an absolutely torturous three hour class and took a show– hold on. Are you _naked_?”

Lana leaned forward, squinting at the image on her screen. Her face scrunched up in confusion, and then relaxed into a curious expression with a raised eyebrow. She saw Clark look down at himself incredulously to find his bare torso on display.

“What? No, I’m still wearing pants,” he answered, looking at himself in the right-hand corner of his screen and realizing she obviously couldn’t see them since the image was cut off above his waist. “Let me put on a shirt.”

Lana’s eyes flickered between his chest and his face. “Sure, I guess.”

She saw him get up and return a few seconds later wearing a blue t-shirt. He must have turned another light on because she could see him much more clearly now.

“Better?” he asked as he sat back down.

Lana looked at his chest again and shrugged, mentally deciding that no, it was not better but instead considerably less favorable. She put on her signature smirk and looked at his face. “Like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by your nipples, I just came from a three hour class on advanced fluid mechanics. A liberal amount of sympathy would be appreciated.”

“Sounds like fun. Maybe I’ll get my Masters in Mechanical Engineering with a Specialization in Energy Systems too.”

She was mildly impressed that he’d memorized the exact title of her degree program and could barely suppress her smile, though she did manage it. Instead, she raised an eyebrow challengingly. Clark sighed.

“Okay fine,” he offered, infusing his voice with an even more intense wave of sarcasm. “‘Oh poor Lana and her three hour class. That’s obviously something so _egregiously_ awful and she _totally_ deserves better than to be bored in an advanced class because she’s just soooo smart.’ How’s that?”

“Better, marginally,” she replied, “but points off for lack of sincerity.” Tossing her pen and notebook aside, she scooted closer to her laptop to bring it just in front of her knees and get a better look at her friend. “Anyway, how was your trip? When’d you get back? Tell me every little detail, and leave absolutely nothing out.”

Clark told her as much about his trip as he thought prudent, which was actually quite a bit. He’d been more open with Lana than anyone else over the years (with the exception of his mother), and the only thing he ever really held back from her was anything involving his powers. He trusted Lana and knew she wasn’t one to be judgmental, but a small part of him still feared the potential for rejection and awkwardness between them. During his regalement she reacted with a wide variety of expressions and interjections, all absolutely sincere. One of the many things that made him fond of Lana was her inability, or at least unwillingness, to hide her emotions. He always thought her braver than him because of it.

“I’m glad you were able to do all that,” said Lana when he finished. “I know I was the most eager to leave the nest, but you needed to get out of Smallville for a while too.”

Clark nodded. A while ago, he’d come to the conclusion that though he loved his home, he didn’t want to stay. “Yeah, I definitely don’t regret it. But what have you been up to besides complaining about your courses?”

Lana gave him a look. “Volunteering at the animal shelter down the street and going to lots of parties. They’re both great stress relievers, you know.”

“I’m not much of a party person.”

“Don’t I know it,” she muttered, reaching up to pull her hair back into a ponytail. “Now, when are you coming over?”

Clark stared at the live video and found Lana staring back at him with an expectant look. Knowing she wasn’t the patient one in their friendship, he gathered his wits again and answered.

“You…want me to come over?”

“Well, duh,” she replied in an exaggerated drawl. It was then her Kansas accent came out. “I haven’t seen you in person in almost two years so you’d better get that farm-boy ass over to Central City pronto. I don’t exactly have time to go all the way back to Smallville for an extended stay but you certainly do.”

Lana wouldn’t have told him, of course, but she was actually really nervous about asking him. She’d always felt like they were in an unorthodox friendship. The two of them were constantly around each other in high school, but after graduation they’d drifted apart and only occasionally wandered back into each other’s orbits. They had cell phones and laptops to help keep them in touch, but in reality they didn’t talk all that much. Sometimes they’d spend days or weeks talking nonstop and then months would go by without a word between them. Nothing overtly romantic had happened either, but there was an odd and palpable magnetism between them that was anything but platonic. At least, that’s what she felt on her end. Even though Clark seemed to be open with her, his reserved personality always made her feel like there was a part of him she’d never get to see. The realization of how much she wanted to see it surprised her and made her uneasy, but after years of practice she’d gotten good at playing it off. The distance helped too, but she was getting tired of it.

Clark still hadn’t answered.

Two short knocks shattered the tension between them. It was on Lana’s end, and she turned toward the sound with a look of pure annoyance. It faded quickly, however, melting into a sigh of resignation. “Come in.”

A short, pale blonde girl came bouncing through the doorway and stopped behind Lana, just close enough so that Clark could see her pretty clearly. Strangely, she was wearing gray sweatpants with red pumps. “You still coming to the party tonight, Lana?” the girl asked. “Because if you are, you should start getting – oh, _hello_!”

The girl’s gray eyes widened as they fell on Lana’s laptop screen. She turned back to Lana, who was uncharacteristically stoic at the moment. “And who is this handsome fellow?”

“Keep it in your pants,” Lana grumbled. “This is my friend Clark. Clark, this is my roommate Chloe.”

Clark waved awkwardly at his screen and put on an amiable smile. “Nice to meet you, Chloe.”

“Likewise, Clark,” she said with a wave of her own. She looked at Lana again. “So…party or no?”

Lana looked at Clark again and then cast her eyes down slowly. Her change in mood was not lost on him. “Nah. Not really in the mood tonight.”

“You sure?”

“I think you should go,” interjected Clark suddenly, deciding to throw caution to the wind. Both girls turned back to him, but he was looking directly at Lana. “Blow off some steam after that awful three hour class. I’ll let you go get ready. Besides, I should get some sleep if I’m gonna be driving over tomorrow. Say around one?”

Lana’s eyes met his and this time she couldn’t suppress the smile that made its way onto her face.

“Yeah,” said Lana softly. “That’s perfect.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Bye, Lana.”

“Bye. Oh and Clark?”

He was just about to end the call when he looked back up again. Lana cocked her head to the right a bit the way she always did when being playful. Clark stared, seemingly distracted. “Yeah?”

“Don’t be late.”


	3. Reunited and it Feels So...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Lana meet up!

Lana always had an intense aversion to being woken up, and therefore did not appreciate rousing to a window full of sunlight and an apartment full of noise. Both her blinds and her door were open, which was odd, and she still wore last night’s clothes. Her legs led her out of bed and she immediately marched toward the source of the sound in preparation to give it a piece of her mind. She found Chloe using the blender amid a small mess in the kitchen. She was always so functional early in the day. Lana, on the other hand, rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn.

The night before, she’d gone out with Chloe and a few other friends to a house party and danced for hours. Self-control and thoughts of the following day led to only moderate drinking, and she was thankful for the clear-ish head in the morning - aside from the ruckus-induced headache that was forming.

“Oh good, you’re finally up. I’m making smoothies,” called Chloe over the noise. “How much do you want? It’s strawberry and banana.”

Lana’s face was expressionless. “I appreciate the offer, but do you really need to do this so early in the morning?”

Chloe gave her an incredulous look, stopping the blender. “Early? It’s 12:30.”

Lana’s eyes doubled in size as her head whipped around to look at the time on the microwave. It was exactly as Chloe had said. Her jaw dropped. “Shit!” Lana bolted back into her room and grabbed her phone. She’d received a text from Clark about an hour ago, asking for her address. “Shit shit shit shit _shit_!”

“What the hell?” she heard Chloe call from the kitchen. Lana made her way back to her friend and roommate at breakneck speed.

“Clark’s coming!” she huffed, stopping in the open space between the kitchen and the hallway leading to the bathroom. Her stance was frantic. “He’s gonna be here in half an hour and I don’t have enough time to get ready!”

“Your hot friend from last night?” Chloe asked with a lilt. She waved her hand nonchalantly, moving to put her dirty dishes in the sink. “Don’t worry, nobody ever makes it anywhere exactly when they say they will. Besides, you shaved your legs last night. Just shower and get dressed.”

Lana had turned to high-tail it to the bathroom but stopped at Chloe’s answer. It was true, she’d known Clark forever and she’d never been strung out like this, not that Chloe would know. Regardless, she whipped back around impatiently. “Clark Kent has never been late to anything in his life, and I still smell like a Friday night.”

“Dude, why are you freaking out so hard? Y'all are buddies,” said Chloe, now doing the dishes. She looked at Lana with a confused look that turned into a look of epiphany. "Unless...you want to be more than buddies…"

Lana blinked, feeling like she'd been gut-punched.

"I-that’s not-he never…I don't have time for this." Lana jogged to the bathroom and tore her clothes off to the sound of Chloe laughing across the apartment. She texted Clark her address while brushing her teeth, and then immediately took a scalding hot shower in an attempt to relax. She scrubbed her whole body at top speed - twice, just to be safe - and made sure to condition her hair. Even while wet it fell only to between her shoulder blades, and not for the first time she felt grateful for having straight hair. After showering, she dashed back to her room in her towel, passing Chloe who was now on the couch watching a movie on her laptop.

"Get it, girl," Chloe offered with barely a tone but loud enough so her roommate would hear.

Lana locked her door, dumped her dirty clothes in her laundry bag, and tossed her towel on the back of her desk chair. Lana whirled like a storm around her room, looking for the essentials.

"Lotion, lotion, lotion. Where the fuck did I put my - oh thank God."

Lana got dressed and applied a little mascara. A spritz or three of light perfume. Ogling herself in the mirror, she shook out her damp hair before heading back to the living room with her heart pounding in her chest. 

Clark couldn’t hide his excitement. He’d gotten up early and helped the three Ross boys with the Kent Farm’s chores as they did on the weekends for Martha. In exchange, she made the four boys and herself a hearty breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and bacon before going into town to get groceries. 

Clark let her know he was going to see Lana later that day, much to her delight. She practically shooed him off when he did, giving him the standard lecture of how to be a gentleman and how not to be an asshole. He reminded her that he and Lana were _friends_ and this was a _friendly_ visit, but she’d hear none of it. So when Martha had left and the boys were on their way back home, Clark left for Central City.

On the way, Clark found the heaviness of the previous day’s events weigh on him again. He’d eventually have to go back to that crystal monument, and soon, but he decided that he’d deal with that later. Today was about Lana. He’d asked for her address when he left, and was a little worried when he didn’t get an answer for a while. She always texted back quickly. It wasn’t until he was coming up on the outskirts of Central City that she did, a little after 12:30.

Clark got there early, so he dipped into the pizzeria around the corner and got a couple of pies to go. Lana wasn’t a morning person, so he doubted she’d eaten anything so far. Clark didn’t know much about Chloe, but who doesn’t like pizza?

The food was ready pretty quickly, and he tossed a couple of bucks into the tip jar on the way out. Making his way back to her building and up the stairs to the apartment number Lana had given him, he looked at his watch to see if he was still on time. A small smile slid onto his face. 12:59.

Clark rang the doorbell once and knocked twice. The door was flung open several seconds later by his favorite redheaded female. Lana stared up at him in the doorway with wide eyes and an even wider smile on her face. Clark could hear her heart hammering in her chest from where he stood, and he knew his must have been the same. Instead of focusing on that, he returned her smile.

“Hey,” he said. In place of an answer, he saw Lana lurch forward and bring her arms up to hug him. She apparently hadn’t seen the two pizza boxes he was holding, because she bumped right into them.

“Shit,” Lana muttered, an uncharacteristically uneasy laugh escaping her lips. “I'm still the smoothest woman you’ve ever met.”

“Obviously,” Clark replied. He looked around the hall, which was deserted except for them. “May I come in?”

“You’d better. Is that pizza?”

“Mm-hmm. One plain cheese and the other is half sausage, half pepperoni.”

Lana’s eyes went wide with excitement. Upon hearing that news she grabbed his upper arm and tugged, pulling him inside with the pizza. “Okay, get in here so I can hug the crap out of you.”

She took the boxes from him and put them on the counter before proceeding to fling herself into Clark’s arms. She felt his chest vibrate with laughter as she hooked her legs around his waist and wrapped her arms over his shoulders. He held her easily, and she buried her face in his neck.

“You spoil me, you know,” she whispered, squeezing tightly.

“So what?" he chuckled casually. "You know you deserve it.”

Lana could hear her blood pumping in her ears and feel the warmth coming from his body.

“Do y’all need a room?” said Chloe from the couch. She was stretched out like a cat, lying luxuriously in blue leggings and a black t-shirt. Lana brought her head up to look at her roommate, who was smirking at them over her laptop.

“No, the kitchen is fine,” Lana said challengingly. Clark let her back down onto the floor.

“Kinky,” Chloe replied, focusing on her movie. Lana rolled her eyes.

“Clark brought pizza. You’re welcome to have some.”

Chloe took out her headphones and looked back up at them. “He did?” She got up and walked over to the kitchen, stopping next to them to look at the boxes. “Can I marry him?”

Clark chuckled. “I feel like we’re missing a few steps in between, Chloe,” he said, opening both boxes.

"It's all part of the fun." 

Lana immediately grabbed a pepperoni slice and took a large bite while leaning over the other side of the box. Her eyes rolled back in her head and the sound that came from her throat was downright lascivious. “Fuck yeah. That hits all the spots.”

Clark took the opportunity to get his first good look at Lana. She was leaning over the counter, weight on one leg and the other bent. She was wearing a white sleeveless crop top and white short shorts that didn’t even stop mid-thigh. The shirt was snug around her ribcage and the shorts ended with a frayed hem that hugged the muscle of her thighs. A red flannel shirt was tied around her waist and partly obscuring her legs, but from where Clark was standing he could see them easily. They were thicker than one would normally expect from one of her slim frame, the muscles rippling as she leaned on one side. His eyes followed the curve of her hamstrings down to the slope of her calves and saw that she was barefoot, standing partly on her toes. Her nails, like the ones on her fingers, were painted a vibrant green. Clark went back to eating his pizza, oblivious to the fact that Lana was staring at him too, albeit less noticeably.

Lana finished her pepperoni slice and grabbed a sausage one. The silence was mildly uncomfortable, and she couldn’t seem to stop her eyes from darting back to him every few seconds. She caught his eyes on her too, but couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It was one of the very few things about Clark that frustrated her. He had the most impressive poker face she’d ever seen, so when it was devoid of expression (like now), she figured he could be thinking about anything from Star Wars lightsaber battles to weird fetishes he might have accidentally come across on the internet. _Yeah, right,_ she thought with a smirk. _As if pure and innocent Clark Kent would ever be so depraved_.

Clark was engrossed in his food now. He usually ate more than this, if Lana's memory served. Maybe he was watching his figure. He certainly looked like he took care of himself. He'd always been very lean but had a wide frame, with broad shoulders and a waist smaller than one would expect on a guy that tall. Lana remembered seeing him at Smallville High’s post-graduation barbecue at the lake and being floored by how he looked wearing only swimming trunks. Most guys with a body like that would go out of their way to show it off, but she’d never even seen him remove his shirt when playing basketball in gym class like most of the others did. And he seemed even bigger now. His wine red Henley shirt and dark blue jeans hugged his legs in ways they hadn't before. _Or had they, and I just didn't notice,_ thought Lana.

Clark’s hair was shorter and thicker than she remembered too. He’d styled it differently so that less of his wavy locks flopped down the sides of his head and instead stayed on top. If one wasn’t paying attention it would look like it was meticulously styled, but Lana noticed that even though his hair was collectively shaped a certain way, the individual hairs were sticking up in different directions. She decided she liked the look – styled enough to be presentable but messy enough to have some character. Her fingers twitched with the urge to touch him. Instead, Lana reached for a plain slice this time to round out her meal and noticed there was only half a pie left. She looked at Clark, who was finishing a slice. He’d only eaten plains so far.

“I know this seems redundant since you bought it, but you know there’s pepperoni and sausage over here, right?” Lana said, taking a bite of her last slice. He looked at her a little too quickly, as if broken out of a reverie. Chloe murmured a token of thanks and slipped away to return to her movie. Clark took a second to swallow and answer.

“Yeah, but I know you prefer the toppings so I figured I’d let you and Chloe have at them first and I’ll have whatever was left if I was still hungry.” He eyed the plain pie a bit and then shrugged, taking a fourth slice and deciding it would be his last. “And if not, you’ll have them for leftovers.”

Lana hadn’t expected her heart to jolt the way it did at his answer. _Ew, why am I being so sappy today?_ she thought. Clark always said and did stuff like this. Maybe it was the distance and time between them. She'd missed him terribly, and seeing him now was like drinking water after a long day in the sun, when just a sip is intensified into a feeling of bliss. 

How could somebody be so effortlessly considerate? It was a small gesture, sure, but she knew that if in his position she never would’ve thought of it. And he did things like that all the time, especially for her and his mother. But why? His mom, she understood. Clark was definitely a mama’s boy, but if anybody deserved it, it was Martha Kent. That woman was a saint. But for Lana? She couldn’t think of a reason. Why would Clark continue to go out of his way for her at no prompting whatsoever? She didn't do things like that for him. He was way too good for her.

"Why the fuck are you so nice?" Lana asked with a tilt of her head.

Clark's brow furrowed in confusion as he finished chewing. "Is that a trick question?"

Lana snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Never mind," she said.

Clark could tell something switched in her mood. Her face was more serious than it had been, and there was tension in her shoulders. When she looked at him, the normal levity in her eyes was absent. She was uneasy, but he couldn’t tell why. It worried him.

“So, what is there to do in Central City?” he asked, consolidating the slices into one box now that they’d finished eating. Lana’s expression changed to a pensive one.

“A lot, actually. There’s so much going on all the time, and since campus is right in the middle of the city, you’ve got college students everywhere. I, uh…actually have something planned for us later.”

“Really?” Clark responded, taken aback. He hadn’t expected that. “What is it?”

“It is a surprise,” she said with her signature smirk back on her face, albeit with redder cheeks. “So no more asking. And it’s not a party. I know you’re not exactly a fan of those.”

Lana put the pizza box in the refrigerator. There was nothing on the bottom shelf, so it fit just fine. “Want to take a walk? I wholeheartedly appreciate the pizza but I’m gonna have to burn some calories after all that. Especially if I’m going to be walking next to a body like yours. All muscle-y and what-not.”

Clark snorted. “Do you own a mirror? Your body’s fine.”

“I know,” she said, exaggerating a hair flip and walking toward her room. “I’ll get my shoes.”

“Sure.”

“Or maybe you can just carry me everywhere?”

“Of course. That’s the only acceptable course of action.”

Clark took in every detail of the apartment he could see from where he was standing, but as always, Lana immediately had his attention when she came back wearing bright red sneakers and carrying a small clutch. Long strides carried her past him and to the front door as she untied her shirt from her waist and put it on. His eyes flickered over her legs. His speed screwed with him sometimes; he had a hard time figuring out if he was staring long enough for her to notice. Clark forced himself to get a handle on his eyes. He almost never ogled anyone openly since he hated the possibility of making anyone uncomfortable, especially in that context. He looked and appreciated, but hardly ever outright stared. Lana was making it difficult to adhere to that.

Clark followed Lana and after giving Chloe a quick goodbye they were off. It was a sunny day in Central City, and as they stepped outside they were hit by a warm breeze that dreamt of spring. Falling into her role as host, Lana became her normal chatterbox self and talked Clark’s ear off about all the sights Central City had to offer.

There were three museums and a couple of small parks, but Lana had always been more interested in the more fast-paced settings. She told him about the different neighborhoods and which ones she liked best. Chloe and Lana lived in what was called “University Town” since it was close to Central City University. Not far from that was Westminster, where the new S.T.A.R. Labs facility was located. Downtown was the City Center, which held most of the office buildings and upscale business. East of University Town was Leawood, with the main attraction of Diamonds Stadium (though Lana couldn’t care less about baseball but mentioned it anyway since she knew Clark loved it). Lawrence Hills was a pretty dodgy area on the northwest edge of the city, full of old warehouses and dark alleys. Most of the cool places to see were toward the center of the city, with the suburban residential areas like Danville and Englewood sitting on the outer rim. Central City wasn’t an expensive place to live (certainly not by San Francisco or Coast City standards), but neighborhoods like Windsor Heights and Brookfield were ritzy enough to make it seem so. Lana didn’t frequent these places much. Usually, she spent her time in either University Town, Westminster or the City Center.

Lana pulled Clark by the hand into a coffee shop called Jitters eight blocks away from where they’d started. It wasn’t terribly packed, but they did have to wait in line for a bit. She ordered a latte and Clark got a bottle of orange juice.

“Okay, now you talk,” ordered Lana, pulling him off to the side to wait for her coffee at the pick-up station. “You’ve been quiet way too long and my mouth is tired.”

“Well you didn’t exactly stop long enough for me to get a word in anyway.” Lana gave him a look. “Seems like you’ve done quite a bit of exploring. Do you still know everybody, like in high school?”

He remembered walking through the crowded hallways of Smallville High many a time with Lana, and every few seconds someone would wave or greet her when they walked by. In the present, Lana rolled her eyes at him.

“Not everybody. It’s kind of hard to be super popular in a city this big. Though obviously anybody who’s met me here so far has fallen madly in love with me.”

“Obviously.”

Lana looked around the café. “Actually, I do know a few people in here. See that girl on her laptop? No, the one with the blue hair. She and her girlfriend volunteer at the animal shelter with me on Thursdays. And the barista at the counter was in one of my lectures last year.”

Clark nodded and put his hands in his pockets. “Guess it’s not called ‘University Town’ for nothing.”

“Oh, and see him over there?” Lana put a hand on Clark’s arm and pointed covertly at a slim young man with dirty blond hair and eyes as blue as Clark’s. He was sitting at a table by the door, typing away at his laptop. “He tutored me in Forensics when I took it for shits and giggles after transferring in senior year. Not my finest moment but he was great. Moves a little slow but dude’s a genius. Got a full ride with the Wayne Foundation scholarship and everything.”

The barista called Lana’s name and she picked up her latte. Clark thought the man by the door was rather young looking. He couldn’t have been as old as they were, but he was sure he was older than he looked. Lana waved at the blond to get his attention.

“Hi, Barry!” she said brightly on their way out. He smiled amiably.

“Oh, hey, Lana,” he said with an absentminded wave before going back to his laptop.

Lana pushed through the door, and they were back out in the Central City sun.

Clark and Lana spent most of their time out walking in the park by the Railroad Museum that sat on the border between Westminster and Lawrence Hills. Eventually they found a couple of benches and decided to take a break from walking. Lana would never say it out loud, but her feet and legs were already sore from trekking around town. She worked out at the gym a couple times a week, but she was not an endurance person. Clark seemed so at ease to her then, and she wondered how he maintained his figure while traveling for the past few months. She chuckled inwardly. Lana wasn’t exactly jealous. It was mere curiosity, and more than a little appreciation, of course.

The wind picked up, so Clark gave Lana his jacket. She wrapped it around her shoulders appreciatively, and sat down sideways on the opposite end of the bench so she could rest her legs in his lap. Lana felt herself shiver and watched the skin on her legs break out into goosebumps. Clark's hand moved back and forth over them almost lazily, warming them up. Her chest seized for a moment.

The two of them sitting in this position was nothing new, and they leaned into it comfortably. Yet, in their silence, Lana was now acutely aware of her own heartbeat. She watched as Clark examined the clear sky in deep thought, eventually relaxing into his touch. Lana appreciated that there was never anything weird about the physicality of their relationship. She remembered how, in high school, everyone would obsess over the simplest brush of a shoulder or nudge of an arm. Meanwhile, she’d never hesitated to climb on Clark’s back just for the hell of it. Granted, they’d known each other since they were nine years old, so they were bound to have been pretty comfortable with each other on some level. Lana was naturally a very openly affectionate person, but too many boys would misconstrue that as romantic or sexual interest and eventually she taught herself to dial it back to avoid the hassle. It was nice that she’d never had to with Clark.

Clark had never made any advances toward her either. It confused her at first, when they were younger. Practically every guy she knew in high school made at least some sort of pass at her, and it had only slightly lessened in college. Now, she was appreciative of Clark’s deviation from the norm. She knew he was into girls at least, since his participation in their friend Pete’s embarrassing escapades concerning female classmates did not go unnoticed, but she never heard Clark express those sentiments when she was around. 

Lana thought it was better that way. Expecting and even wanting objectification for validation wasn’t healthy, and she’d put too much effort into herself to entertain that notion. In this regard, Clark was perfect, because he and his mother were literally the only two people in her life who had ever given her support and positive reinforcement without there ever being a time they took it away. Lana smiled to herself. Even if over the last six years they’d spent less time talking than not, Clark was her best friend. That was something that had been proven time and time again, and it didn’t seem likely to change. 

Clark continued to stare at the sky. He’d been ruminating over his friendship with Lana for the last few minutes, but now he was listening to her heartbeat. It was powerful, steady, and a little fast. Over the years he’d learned to identify hers and his mother's heartbeat with different moods and emotions, but every now and then he’d stop and listen to hers just to enjoy knowing that she was there next to him. He’d come to terms with his feelings for Lana early on, but after going to college, working, and travelling, he’d gotten used to not having her around. It was an odd feeling. Being off on his own away from home brought peace and liberation, yet they came with an intense loneliness he hadn’t been prepared to experience. But every time he saw and talked to Lana those feelings would go away, and his affection for her would show up again to take their place.

“What about that sky is so interesting, Clark?”

Lana’s voice shattered his silent reflection. He blinked, looking around like he was lost. There weren’t many people around in their section of the park, which provided a certain intimacy despite being in public.

“Huh?”

Lana smiled as wide as Clark had ever seen her and giggled. “You’re looking at it like it’s holding the secrets of the universe. What’s on your mind?”

Clark studied her face, wondering what he should say. He didn’t want to bombard her with his issues, but didn’t want to lie either.

“I missed you,” he decided to tell her. Lana’s smile shrank but didn’t disappear, only covered by the unconscious biting of her lip. 

“Well, of course you did,” she replied. Clark laughed.

Lana wiggled her feet a bit in his lap and tapped her hands against her thighs. Clark tuned back in to her heartbeat, fast and a little irregular. She was anxious. Before he could ask what was wrong, she spoke again.

“I have a game,” she blurted, pulling her hands up to undo her ponytail and let her hair fall back down. Clark’s face told her he was more than confused. She wasn’t sure why she’d decided on this course of action, but she was pretty certain that her brain and mouth were no longer working together.

“Okay, what is it?” Clark asked warily.

“We’re, uh, going to ask each other questions and the other has to answer truthfully, no matter what. We can’t repeat each other’s questions and the first to decline to answer is paying for dinner.”

Lana eyed him uneasily, as if she were unsure of her decision. Clark found that weird. She usually seemed so confident and self-assured when taking action. “Hmm. Alrighty, ladies first.”

“What was the craziest thing to happen to you on this last trip?” she asked, inwardly thanking Clark for his easygoing nature.

"A jaguar pooped in my hat once,” he answered.

Lana’s expression instantly switched to one of joy as she threw her head back in a peal of laughter. The sound made his heart jolt in his chest.

“No fucking way!” she exclaimed, barely able to breathe. “How?”

Clark turned his body diagonally to face her with her legs still in his lap. “I was in Peru and I stumbled upon this organization that tries to protect jaguars from poachers and ranchers. They’re endangered over there. This guy, Joaquin, was on duty to study them and learn more about their habitats and behavioral patterns so I tagged along. I’d never seen a jaguar in person before! It was really cool.”

Lana listened, enraptured by Clark’s sudden spike in excited energy. She loved when he got like this. It didn’t happen enough.

“So we were out close to the edge of the forest,” he continued, “and we saw a couple. They’re actually really beautiful. We had binoculars since we didn’t want to get too close, but that ended up not working out. We missed one and had to high-tail it out of there before it got close enough to attack us. They’re not particularly friendly. Joaquin drove so we were fine, but I’d realized I’d forgotten my hat in the rush. I look back with my binoculars as he’s driving to see the little guy leaving a steaming pile on my hat while looking right at us.”

Lana was in a fit of giggles for so long that by the time she calmed down, her cheeks hurt. “What a power move! I wonder if jaguars normally go out of their way to shit on things.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t get to ask,” Clark laughed. “Okay, my turn. If you could have any mythical creature as a pet, what would it be?”

“Hmm. A Pegasus. Riding horses was one of Smallville’s few highlights and flying would be cool.” Clark filed that in the back of his mind. Lana spoke again. “If you were in medieval times and you could choose your place in society, who would you be? What job would you take?”

“Blacksmith.”

“What?” said Lana, shaking her head in disbelief. “Seriously, a blacksmith?

“Why is that so surprising?” Clark was giving her his own playful look.

“I don’t know. You’ve always seemed more like a knight to me. Quite the example of chivalry.”

“Preposterous. I know nothing of medieval battle etiquette.” Lana slapped his arm. His expression turned serious. “There’s honor in the simplicity of building things. Blacksmiths built the essential tools for day-to-day living, not just the weapons and armor. They helped people live. I wouldn’t want to be a knight. I’d never want to just fight and serve.”

Lana understood. She felt similarly, but knew it wasn’t for the same reasons. Clark was probably the most upstanding person she would ever meet, and she was certain that any action he took was done to make something better no matter how big or small it was. If Clark was given no other choice, he absolutely would fight. But he’d hate it. Lana would never “serve,” purely out of stubbornness. She knew that if she did fight, it would be because she was angry (even if it was rightfully so), and she would probably enjoy it until it was over. A wave of sadness and inferiority washed over Lana. The difference between her and Clark was that Lana’s choices stemmed from hurt, and his came from loneliness. It was times like now when Lana would notice, see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. She always wondered about, and hated, whatever made him feel like that. He didn’t deserve it for a second. Clark loved the world and everyone in it. Lana cast her eyes down in the shame of her self-reflection. Lana hated the world and how it treated the majority of its people. Clark wanted to make it better. She wanted to make it pay.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking, stop it," said Clark. His voice was soft yet rough, like a whisper or a breeze. "You’ve got ‘the melancholy face.’”

She couldn’t help but smile at his tone. “Melancholy face? This isn't English class, buddy.”

“Yep. It's the 'lost in thought and kinda sad' face. You don’t exactly hide your emotions well.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“How incredibly forward of you, Miss Lang. I’m scandalized. At least buy me dinner first.”

Lana blinked. Clark was always quick with a response, but never quite like _that._ It was her brand of teasing though, so she recovered quickly. “I haven’t lost the game yet, Mr. Kent. You could very well be buying _me_ dinner.”

“We’ll see,” he said, looking out at the sky again. “But come on, what is it?”

Lana slid her hand into his and squeezed gently, sighing. He reciprocated reflexively. 

“You’re the best friend anyone could ever have, Clark. Do you know that? It's like you radiate goodness.”

Clark chuckled timidly. He didn’t know what to say. Coming from Lana this was a bit out of the ordinary. If Lana gave anyone a compliment, it was almost always accompanied by a mild insult to balance it out. He was never exempt from that treatment, so he found it strange that she sounded so sincere now.

Lana folded her arms and stared pensively ahead. “It's not in me to be like that. Effortlessly good, I mean.”

Clark’s concern grew. A minute ago they were laughing together and now there was this tension between them. “It’s not effortless. It’s just choosing the right thing in the moment. Of course you can do it. Anyone can.”

She gave an exasperated, almost impatient sigh. “That’s what I mean. You see people...you see me as better than I am, and you almost make me believe it too. It’s kinda frustrating, feeling better and worse about myself when you’re around.”

He hadn’t expected that. Clark had known that Lana had had a hard childhood. Eventually she told him the specifics, but long before then he’d decided that he would do everything in his power to make sure she felt loved and appreciated. But apparently he hadn't done as great a job as he'd wanted. “I’m sorry.”

Lana pulled her legs back and brought herself forward, landing to sit on her knees at Clark’s side. A playful punch on his shoulder grabbed his attention, and Lana leaned forward to hold his face in her hands.

“Hey...I promise I didn't mean that how it sounded. You’ve never been anything less than great to me – never ever. I promise. It’s just…you know me. You know why I had to leave Smallville. But once I did, it was like nothing changed." Lana looked up indignantly at the sky. Her face took on a fierceness people didn't usually see. "Everywhere you look, people get treated like dirt. Sometimes it’s more subtle, but it’s there and I hate it. I hate it so much, Clark. I hate that everything around us is set up to make us feel like my parents made me feel.”

Clark didn't respond. He knew when Lana had more to say, and this was one of those times. He understood the sentiment. Even if he’d only listened to the news or read articles online, he would’ve felt the same. He hadn’t needed to trek around the world to see she was right. If people weren’t discriminated for their race, they were judged by their gender. If people weren’t dismissed for having disabilities, they were persecuted for their sexuality. If people weren’t exploited for being poor and desperate, they were having their insecurities used against them. No matter what, billions of people around the world faced society’s ruthlessness, and it seemed like nobody could do a damn thing about it. But Clark was lucky. So far he’d had a life spared of many of the horrible things people had to go through every day. He’d never been abused the way Lana had been. And though the two of them were both emotional people and felt everything strongly, her hurt turned into rage, and his empathy turned into sorrow. Now she thought less of herself because of it.

“I’m just so angry all the time,” she continued. “Maybe you haven’t gone through it all but I know you’ve seen horrible things firsthand. How can you see what I see, feel what I feel…and be so hopeful?”

Lana's eyes trailed over his face, searching. Partly in shadow due to the trees, his eyes were now a darker blue than she'd gotten used to. The lower edge of his face was still illuminated, and the pursing of his lips drew her attention. She'd forgotten it was there, but now took notice again of the small blemish at the left side of his mouth - the faintest of scars. Clark had never said how he'd gotten it. She hadn't asked either. For some reason, she didn't want to know. There was something about it that felt private, maybe insignificant on the surface but indicative of something deeper. Her hands slipped from his face as she sat back on her heels, suddenly exhausted but still desperate for his answer. Lana couldn’t remember feeling this exposed in front of him. It was torturous.

Clark stared out at the park. They were completely alone now, and the shadows of the trees stretched out long over the paved paths in the light of the late afternoon sun. It would be setting soon. As much as he loved being out during the day, it was at night when he felt most hopeful. Hope wasn’t something you always carried with you. It was a friend you could count on to always show up when needed.

“Because if I didn’t,” Clark said, “I wouldn’t have made it home.”

Lana’s eyebrows creased. That was uncharacteristically enigmatic and ominous coming from Clark. It worried her. “What do you mean?”

Clark looked her in the eyes and held his gaze there for a few seconds. The sunlight illuminated her irises and he could see a faint shade of green in the brown. “I guess I am paying for dinner.”


	4. Blindsided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date day part 2 - things get REALLY real.

Despite the drastic change in discussion, their walk out of the park and deeper into Westminster was as light and devoid of heaviness as could be. Clark and Lana never had a problem talking about different things, and often took the comfort and fluidity between them for granted. He didn’t know about Lana, but Clark knew that for him it was hard to remember that not everybody was as easy to talk to.

As they walked the length of Infantino Street, Lana told him about her graduate classes, zany professors, and grueling projects. He was so proud of her for having the discipline and drive to get where she wanted because there were too many instances when he felt lost, or when overthinking led to inaction. He admired her for that. Lana was graduating in a couple of months, and she’d be on her way to designing and inventing things that would change the world.

“You’d better let me know when you get your work published and patented,” Clark told her. “I’ll throw you a huge party and put your articles framed on my wall.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she chuckled. “I thought I was supposed to be extra.”

“And you are. That would be me responding appropriately to your accomplishments. The equilibrium remains intact.”

“ _Pfft_. Nerd.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“You’re an actual five year old. Wait, hold on,” she said, stopping him by holding his arm. They’d been walking straight for eleven blocks or so, and now they were standing on a corner next to a church. She pulled him around and led him to the left.

“Where are we going?” asked Clark.

“To your surprise,” Lana said with a bright smile, still leading him by the hand. “Or did you forget?”

They were almost to the edge of Westminster leading back into University Town when Clark saw where Lana was taking him. Spanning the whole block was a colossal cylindrical building that reminded Clark of Madison Square Garden, but instead of being flat at the top it was domed. Lana had taken him to S.T.A.R. Labs.

The inside of the building was beautiful, with large, glossy white tiles covering the floors. Everything was streamlined and shiny, giving it a futuristic vibe. The entranceway was forked, splitting to the left and the right a few feet from the doors. On the left was a long path that descended into a clearing with a locked door and an elevator, both exclusively for authorized personnel. On the right was a short spiral staircase that led into a small lobby with a man at the front desk set against the right wall. The open area was flooded with people of all ages, chattering excitedly. There were monitors mounted to the walls above them, showing a virtual tour of the facility recorded jointly by world-renown Doctors Emil Hamilton and Harrison Wells. The facility held massive labs in the lower levels of the west side that conducted research on a variety of disciplines such as biomechanics and nanotechnology, and the entire east side of the building was a museum.

After walking up to the front desk, Lana greeted the receptionist and produced two museum tickets. They showed their IDs and the man waved them in toward the metal detectors. A couple minutes later, Clark and Lana were alone inside one of the elevators making their way up to the third floor. They were enveloped in awkward silence, and Lana was internally freaking out about what he thought. She thought she’d be smug and confident, but even though she assured herself that this was a good idea and Clark would love it, her inability to read his expressions set her on edge. She didn’t know when it had happened, but she’d become extremely dependent on his positive reinforcement. Any from him was like discovering an oasis, and right now she was in a desert. 

“So, um, there’s this showing for the planetarium here in a little over an hour,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know if you’re interested or not but it’s included in the tickets I got last night after you said you were coming since I figured there was a possibility you might want to go since you’ve always loved astronomy and might enjoy that with the rest of the science-y stuff in the museum. We don’t have to, though, if you don’t want to. I’ve already been.”

Clark saw Lana wring her hands and pull his jacket closer around her. He was so enraptured with what he’d seen so far that he hadn’t noticed her expectant look until now. Clark could hear her heart beating harder than normal in her chest. She was fidgeting, shrinking, taking up less space than she normally would. The elevator doors opened and he took her hand, leading her out and over to the nearest corner.

“That sounds awesome,” he said in a low voice, holding her hand. “Thank you. This is so cool. I’ve been wanting to do something like this for ages but just never got around to it. If it won’t bore you seeing it again, I’d totally love to see the planetarium showing. It means a lot that you thought of it at all. You’re pretty damn great, Lana.”

Lana hadn’t realized when it happened, but she was beaming. She was still anxious, but the tension was gone from her shoulders. Her voice came out with a soft chuckle. “Yeah, I know. Now come on, you dork."

Lana pulled him along into the exhibit on the third floor. Lana followed Clark around and for a while she had no problem guessing how he felt about anything he saw. He was like a little kid in a candy store, stopping to look at every single object and sign on display. He loved the Spaceflight and Applications Satellites exhibits, but his obvious favorite was the exhibit outside of the planetarium dome when they got to the top floor. There was an interactive map of the sky, where they could learn about the millions of celestial bodies that humanity has catalogued. Most people had walked by it with merely a glance, but Lana saw Clark immediately gravitate toward it and whisper to himself about how cool it was. She couldn’t stop smiling.

After a while one of the museum’s staff gave an announcement that the planetarium showing was starting in ten minutes, and Lana dragged Clark away from the maps to grab a spot inside the dome.

The show went over the theorized history of the universe, principles of cosmology and astronomy, and the speculations on the unknown. It was a surreal experience for Clark, having a very important insight into the unknown but for the most part still being as much in the dark as the rest of humanity. Yet, any feelings of melancholy were abated by the sheer spectacle of it all. He loved every second of the show, and had hugged Lana immediately after exiting the dome. He could barely contain himself.

It was getting dark out by the time they left, but surprisingly warm for a night in early March. They’d picked up some sandwiches on the way back to Lana’s apartment, Clark paying like he promised. He figured he would have paid anyway since he owed her for the amazing time he’d had at S.T.A.R. Labs with her, though that wouldn’t be anywhere near commensurate.

University Town was still buzzing when they’d gotten in, and Clark had seen lots of couples and groups of friends milling about. Thinking back to college and high school, he realized he hadn’t really allowed himself to have those types of experiences and had isolated himself in favor of focusing on school and protecting his secret. Clark had hoped a long time ago that he and Lana could be something more, but he ignored his feelings. He was sure Lana had never shown him any interest in that way. At first, it was annoying to watch her date other guys. The only thing that helped him through the bouts of envy was his mother's constant reminders to consciously think about her happiness first, which he admitted mattered more to him than almost anything else. She alone had the right to choose what made her happy and who, and he’d still be her friend no matter what. Eventually, he’d made peace with it. Even though she’d never said so, he knew she loved him only as a friend. And Clark counted himself lucky that she did. She didn’t get attached to people lightly, and the fact that she cared enough to stay in touch this long was everything to him. It didn’t matter that he was in love with her.

But Clark still couldn’t help but feel awful every time he saw Lana. He knew that despite his close friendship with Lana he was keeping the most essential part of himself a secret from her. She’d been in his life longer than anyone he knew other than his parents, and she still didn’t know who he really was. He’d been close to telling her dozens of times, but every single instance was met with a crippling fear of rejection. She meant so much to him, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it if their friendship ended over something so important. What if she couldn’t handle the shock? Would she even believe him? Seeing Lana after months of no contact was like getting struck by lightning. Then they’d had this perfect day, and he really didn't want to ruin it. But guilt was a motivator. 

Right before they got to her door, Clark stopped her. Lana turned to him a little too quickly, eyes large and unfocused. Clark suddenly had the thought that maybe Lana was having her own pressing inner monologue.

“Hey, do you have access to the roof?” Clark asked cautiously.

Lana blinked. “Yeah. Yeah, why?”

“Come on.” He pulled her by the hand and led her up another few flights of stairs. The building wasn’t that tall, so they didn’t have to go far.

“Slow down, will you?” Lana said, a little winded but keeping up with his pace.

They finally got to the steel door at the very top of the staircase, which was unlocked. Outside they were met with a gentle breeze and the low light of the city. The top of the building didn’t have much on it save for a large water tower, ventilation exhausts fans, and a few metal beams stacked in the middle of the expanse. Lana was still wearing his jacket, and pulled it around her before setting their bags on the beams. 

Clark remained standing a few feet away from her, trying to muster up some courage. But he was too slow.

"I have to tell you something," came Lana's voice, softer than he was used to. She walked back to him slowly and warily, like a child who couldn't tell if their mother was angry or not. Clark met her eyes and tried to decipher her expression. There was apprehension and anxiety, but something akin to giddiness as well. A smile played in her eyes, though it had not yet gotten to her face. He waited. This was not going the way he'd expected.

Lana took a deep breath. She'd been rehearsing what she wanted to say for the last twenty minutes, but wasn't satisfied with anything her brain came up with. Not going through with it was an option. The downside, however, was knowing she'd drive herself crazy with ridiculous "what if" scenarios and trying to find the right time. Caution thrown to the wind, she started again. Lana had a lot to say, and she was going to say it now, for better or worse. 

"I can't even remember the last time I enjoyed a whole day like this, Clark. I didn't realize just how fucking much I missed you until a little while ago." She tried to gather her thoughts further, but watching Clark freeze up and give his attention to her was unnerving. She could barely focus.

"I think I was blind to it," she continued anyway. "But every time we'd go a while without talking, I'd feel this sort of withdrawal. I was always worse for it - irritable, anxious, just a general dickface. More than usual. 'Cause you're, like, the _best_ , you know? When you're around, everything is so much better. You're thoughtful...kind, sarcastic, fun. You're understanding, gorgeous, intelligent, and all-around _good_. I've never met anyone else like you and I don't think I ever will."

Lana's eyes met Clark's but she couldn't keep the contact. She had no idea what his expression meant but still pressed on, hands fidgeting. "A-And you've been my best friend since before I even wanted friends. I mean, I don't know how much more fucked up I'd be if I didn't have you watching out for me. Because of you, I know what it’s like to be cared for. And I know that I wasn’t always a good friend and I make light of important things too much and I'm shit at talking about my feelings but what I'm spectacularly failing to articulate right now is that you are absolutely everything to me and I am my best self when you're here. So if we keep gravitating toward each other only to be apart for months again I will literally lose my fucking mind."

Her eyes reflected the moonlight and shone brightly. She could feel them stinging. Another shaky breath came out of her. She wasn't done. "I don’t want you to leave again. I need you, Clark. I want you, here and with me. And even though I'm terrified of changing what's been perfect between us I have to say I really, _really_ don't want to be just friends. I...I want more than that."

Lana found she couldn't tear her eyes away from Clark's face. His current expression was one she'd never seen before, and she was desperate for a reprieve from the silence. She forced herself to wait.

Slowly, after what felt like a billion lifetimes, Clark's eyes focused on her eyes with a cautiousness that had Lana worried. 

“You do?”

She nodded slowly, but the look on Clark’s face made his words seem ambivalent, enigmatic. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. Clark was trying to let her down easily, but was just having trouble getting it out. Surely that was it. Lana steeled herself. She was a big girl, so she could take it. It made sense anyway. He was too good for her. It was better that she didn't get the opportunity to drag him down. Clark not having feelings for her would be better for both of them in the long run. It would hurt, but he'd still be friends with her, so she wouldn't really lose him. It would be okay.

"I'm sorry," said Lana quickly, earning an almost startled look from Clark. Her hands went up to touch him but immediately retracted themselves before they could. Her fingers flexed oddly. "I just totally dumped myself all over you. Not cool. I didn't mean to make you feel weird or like, pressure you into something. I just-I needed you to know. And now you know. So we can totally just keep being friends. If you don’t want to be tied down to anything, or if there’s someone else...that’s totally fine. All good."

Lana gave Clark a small, strained smile. It definitely wasn’t all good. _I can’t do this,_ she thought. _I just used the word “totally” three times. I think I’m going to vomit._

Lana could feel her chest tightening around a space emptier than she’d ever known. A shiver ran through her arms down to her hands and didn’t cease. She looked back up at him, vision almost tunneled. Clark’s face changed abruptly, from stony and stoic to relaxed, almost amused. He shook his head, eyes wandering. What the fuck did that mean?

“Blindsided” wasn’t even close to how Clark felt, but it was the only word he could come up with for the moment. One second he was in knots trying to figure out how to tell her his secret in the most palatable way, and the next he was interrupted by the one thing he’d wished to hear since he’d met Lana. The immediate elation it fostered in him would have eclipsed the anxiety if he hadn’t been completely stunned. It was almost too much.

He looked at Lana. She’d continued before he could form a response, and now he’d given her the wrong impression. Her face was a diaphanous mask, and did nothing at all to hide how she truly felt from him. The hurt, hollowed look that prefaced distance Clark knew too well. She may have said it was okay, but he knew better.

He shook his head, and then finally spoke.

“There was never anyone else.”

The redhead looked back up at him, trepidation on display for the whole universe to see. “What?”

“Lana, there was never anyone else.” Lana stared at her best friend. Her lips parted slightly, but her voice didn’t come. “It’s always been you,” he said.

Clark’s face held a bashful look now, and Lana felt herself begin to relax. She breathed slowly and realized she was now full to bursting instead, still jittery and uncomfortable but in the best way. A smile slowly spread across her face with a small breathy laugh. Lana stepped closer to him. _This whole time?_ she thought. _Does he really mean it?_

“Yeah?” Her eyes stayed glued to his face. Clark was beaming back at her.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Lana eradicated the space between them in two steps and crashed into him. Clark was so tall that she had to launch herself up to fling her arms around his neck, and his reciprocal embrace kept her off the ground. She hugged him tightly, squeezing with all the strength and gratitude she could muster. The cool night air enveloped them in an embrace of its own. For a moment, they were closed off from the rest of the world.

Clark set Lana back down eventually, but didn’t let go. His hands rested at the small of her back. Lana was still looking up at him with an open expression, her own hands still locked around his neck, comfortable and content. Clark couldn’t tell exactly what he was feeling, but it was _so much_. Lana was in his arms, in the way he’d always wanted it. That should have put him over the moon, and for a moment there it did. 

But this wasn’t how he’d pictured it.

Where would they go from here? Where could they go from here, when Lana had bared herself to him and he still held his most important secret close to the chest?

“I need to tell you something,” Clark said finally. Fear mounted, and he had no idea how to proceed. This was looking more and more like a terrible idea, no matter how happy he felt right now. But he owed it to the woman in front of him. 

“You too, huh?” the redhead giggled. Her hands settled themselves to caress the hair on the back of his neck.

Clark cherished the look she was giving him. He used it to steel his resolve. “Lana…you have no idea how happy you’ve made me just now. But there’s something I’ve been wanting to share with you. A part of me no one’s ever known. You’re my best friend and I don’t want to keep it from you anymore.”

Lana’s hands stopped moving. She blinked, and her green eyes held a darker look that had nothing to do with the lack of light around them. Clark suddenly felt cold.

“Okay,” she nodded. “Whatever it is, I’ll be here for you. Like you always are for me.”

Clark shook his head to clear his mind and took a deep breath.

For a moment, Lana was ebullient. The affirmation that Clark shared her feelings - for longer than she did, apparently - put her on a high she’d never experienced. She’d known little of triumph, always at the mercy of the universe and never in its favor. But for the first time Lana could recall, she tasted happiness.

Then Clark started being cryptic. That wasn’t out of the ordinary per se. Clark was open, but not exactly forthcoming. However, the shift in his face put her on edge. Despite the novel feeling she’d immediately begun to cherish, she knew it to be brittle. And she hoped that he wouldn’t shatter it now.

“Remember in the show earlier,” Clark began shakily, “when the narrator was saying that we don’t know if there’s other life in the universe?”

Lana nodded. This was taking a turn she hadn’t expected. Her hands slid down over his collarbones and rested lightly on his chest. She didn’t know why, but she was afraid.

“Well, the thing is…there is,” said Clark slowly. “Life. On other planets, I mean. I know because…I’m not from here. I’m from…out there.”

Clark pointed up at the sky, and Lana understood that he meant the stars. Her hands dropped to her sides and she shuffled back half a step.

“So you’re telling me,” she said slowly, “that you’re from another planet?”

Clark nodded curtly, his eyes not leaving her face. Lana raised an eyebrow. _What the fuck?_

She took another step back. "Okay, Clark. You, uh...you're usually better at jokes but this isn’t funny. Now come on, what is it?" Her voice low and tone serious, Lana now stared back at him. He was fidgeting shiftily, which wasn't like him. This was all wrong.

He shook his head and gazed off to the side. “I’m so stupid,” said Clark, low and mostly to himself. Lana watched and waited, scared, angry, and concerned all at once. Then Clark moved, walking with purpose across the roof. “Don’t move. Just watch.”

Lana started after him, panicked. “Wait, what-stop! Clark, what the fuck? Just tell me! What’s going on? Why-”

“It’s okay, Lana. I promise it’ll make sense. Just trust me” His expression was hard. He wasn’t looking at her.

Trust him? Of course she trusted him. But she could feel her anxiety mounting. It wouldn’t allay her fear.

“What are you doing?” Lana extended her arm reflexively, hoping to guide him back, but he was too fast. Clark was already close to the edge of the building and still walking. He didn’t slow.

Lana’s previous headspace shattered, replaced by a wave of dread that crashed with terror on its heels. The top of the fire escape was on the other side of the roof. _No. He wouldn’t._

“Clark, stop!”

She was shaking. Her breath came out in short spurts. The words misted in the open air, but it was not nearly as cold as the feeling that hollowed out her ribcage. Clark was a foot from the edge. He didn’t stop. _No, no ,no._

“Clark, please-”

Lana’s body went rigid as she watched with wide eyes. Her heart hammered in her chest. She couldn’t move. 

_NO._

“Clark!”

He jumped.


	5. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secret's out...

Lana felt like she’d been struck by lightning. The air was knocked from her but somehow still stuck in her throat, leaving her to choke on her own fear. Her legs pulled her forward as everything collapsed around her. It took either seconds or years for her to get to the edge of her building, following her best friend as he leapt up, leaning forward, into the open air. The breath inside her finally found its way out, tearing itself through her teeth in a short, rough scream that pierced the open air. Trembling hands came up to cover her lips, and her eyes widened in horrible shock. Clark’s feet cleared the building.

But he didn’t fall.

Lana looked at his feet, and the space between them and the roof. The throbbing of her heart in her throat made it feel like time had slowed but...gravity should have taken effect by now. Why didn’t he fall?

She searched in front of her and found his face. Clark held a strained, tense expression with eyes Lana couldn’t recognize. There was fear in them, as well as pain, but most of all exhaustion. She didn’t understand. She couldn’t. 

“I’m sorry, Lana,” he said. “I’m sorry for everything you’re feeling right now, and I’m sorry for waiting so long to tell you the truth.”

Clark’s body began to descend toward her, but his legs weren’t moving. Lana scampered back a few steps, eyes blown even wider than they had been. They followed him, flitting between his legs and the space under them as he floated over. Eventually his feet touched down again. It was dark. There was a lot of shadow. It could've been an illusion, a trick of the light if he'd been standing there originally. But past the edge of the roof...that was harder to dispute, and more confusing because of it. Clark stood, back on the roof like normal, as if the last thirty seconds hadn’t happened. His face was the only thing about him to suggest otherwise.

 _"What the fuck?"_ she whispered. This couldn’t be happening. How could it be happening? Lana searched her mind frantically. Did she eat something weird? They hadn’t eaten dinner yet and the pizza had tasted fine. She didn’t have anything at the party the night before; Chloe made sure they brought their own booze. Was she dreaming then? That had to be it. But if you knew you were dreaming then that would be lucid dreaming, and she’d be able to get herself out of this, right? Right?

Because Clark couldn’t defy gravity just like that. He couldn’t _fly_ , like some sort of muscular Peter Pan. Stuff like that wasn’t real. Lana looked at his face again, and could still see the conflict in it. _Tell me this isn’t real,_ she thought. _Help me wake up._ It had to be a dream. She couldn’t have gathered the courage to confess her feelings only to have it turn out like this. Life wouldn’t be that cruel, even to her, right?

But locking eyes with Clark from where she stood, she could see. All of it was real. This was the one thing he’d been holding back, the part of him she’d never gotten to see. And he was showing it to her now. He’d given her all of him, and the realization of that was something she couldn’t put into words. It had an awful effect on him too. It was painful to realize, and as powerful as the discord between the real and unreal in her mind, Lana’s hatred for the idea of a Clark in turmoil was even more so. So she felt it. Everything struck her in that moment. 

She’d known Clark for twelve years but had never seen him get close to anyone besides her (and Pete, to a lesser extent), and this was probably why. If he was only telling her now, then he definitely hadn’t told anyone else. Part of her deep down appreciated that, but the thought of it hurt her as well. Clark _loved_ people. He would thrive having lots of friends and lots of different types of relationships. She knew that was something that would make him happy, but he never let himself have it. He’d made himself a loner.

Now he was trying to let go of that. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. But how was she supposed to react? Lana wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle an explanation. Still, she asked anyway.

“How is this possible?”

Clark walked over and sat on the metal beam a few feet away from Lana, watching her watch him. He was still tense, but visibly more relaxed. 

When he finally responded, his voice was low with a dull edge. “This will be the most ridiculous thing you’ll probably ever hear. But please bear with me and listen all the way through.” 

Lana stared. Eventually, she nodded. Clark slowly blew out a long breath and started again.

“I...wasn’t born here on Earth. I came here-crashed here-when I was little more than a baby. Mom and Dad found me in a cornfield outside of Smallville. Yesterday I found out that I came from a planet called Krypton – like the noble gas – but it was destroyed. My biological father sent me here to save my life. On top of all that, I can do things nobody else on this planet can do.”

Lana waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. She heard what he said, though she felt like she wasn’t listening. It was one thing to see Clark defy gravity. It was another thing to accept that he was an extraterrestrial being. Was it more believable that he was a human who could fly, or an alien who just happened to look exactly like a human? Lana couldn’t tell. This was too fucking much.

Staring at nothing in particular, Lana refused to think. She let her subconscious process on its own. Her conscious thoughts would catch up, but not for several moments. Instead, they wandered to what he’d said before all this. Lana had feelings for him, and he had feelings for her. They’d been through so much. She needed him. 

She needed him, so she’d try.

“Tell it to me again.”

Clark did, while not providing any extra details. This time she really listened, nodding along. When he finished, she stayed quiet for a while longer. Lana knew Clark felt anxious about it, but she needed time to internalize the information. Suddenly feeling restless and fidgety, Lana reached into the bag next to them and retrieved her food. She took a huge bite of her sandwich for some sense of normalcy and chewed. Something tugged on the back of her mind. He’d said he could do things nobody else can do. “Things.” Plural.

“What other things can you do?” Lana was almost afraid to ask, but she had to. 

“Lana, I don’t want to burden you with too much right now-”

“Dude, I’m already about to have an aneurysm. Just lay it all out. Don’t half-ass it for my sake.”

Lana surprised herself. If she could still be as snarky as always, maybe that meant she’d be okay.

Clark nodded and stood up. Moving slowly, he opened the jacket Lana still had on. He retrieved a small black object from the inner pocket, and walked to stop a few feet away from her.

“Is that a lump of coal?” Lana asked incredulously. “Why do you have coal in your pocket?”

“It’s graphite, specifically. Watch closely.” Clark tossed it into the air in front of him, and then ran to catch it a couple of yards away. He did this several times, increasing his speed until he was moving so fast that all Lana could see was a dark red blur. She stared, keeping it together as best she could.

“Okay…so you’re fast,” she said, eyes unfocused. She’d already seen him float so maybe she could actually believe her eyes this time. “Holy shit you’re fast.”

“Uh, yeah,” Clark smiled nervously. He sat down next to her again. “And here’s why I keep lumps of graphite in my pocket. Please don’t freak out.”

“Oh yeah, thanks. Like I wasn’t already freaking o-OH MY GOD!”

Clark had held the mineral in his outstretched palm and then immediately blasted two thin red beams from his eyes right into the middle of the lump. Lana screamed, scooting back away from him and sliding part of the way off the metal beam. A wave of heat wafted toward her and Lana had to squint her eyes to keep them from misting too much. She watched him seal his hands around the lump and squeeze hard. Steam hissed from his fist as the object shrunk, and eventually he opened his hand back up again and blew. Once his hand and the air around them was sufficiently cool, Clark reached out to Lana. She had a wild look in her eyes and wore a conflicted expression, but she didn’t shy away from him this time. She leaned forward and looked at the object in his hand. Her eyes grew even wider as her chest continued to heave.

“Is–is that...” she began, her eyebrows creasing. 

“A diamond, yeah,” said Clark sheepishly, slipping it into his pocket. “It’s not perfect, but it’s something. It’s how I’ve been getting money in a pinch on my trips. I figured this is similar to what the manufacturers do, except I can do it without any equipment.”

Okay, maybe the alien thing wasn’t so far-fetched after all. She looked at him with a small smile. “That’s really creative, actually.”

“Thanks.”

“You shoot lasers from your eyes.”

“That's an oversimplification.”

“And you’re really strong.”

“…yeah.”

All in all, Lana thought she was taking this pretty well. Or at the very least not terribly. The second time was a bit easier since she’d already been expecting something absurdly unbelievable. She slipped back onto the beam and took another bite of her sandwich. Clark sat back down next to her and started on his own dinner.

Lana began to process. This couldn’t have been easy for Clark, either. Apparently he was the last known survivor of an entire planet. That knowledge alone would’ve been heavy enough, but he’d just found out and then told her with barely any time to process it in between. Given the circumstances of the Kents’ discovery of him, he’d probably already known the alien thing. That would make sense. But they would’ve known next to nothing else about it. That meant Clark had spent the better part of twenty years wondering where out there he came from, and why he’d ended up on Earth alone. Lana was astounded that Clark had managed to seem so _normal_ for so long. She marveled at his inner strength. If she had been in his position, she knew she’d have crumbled under it all. 

Assuming if the alien thing was true, of course. If so, then there would be an easy way to prove it, like he obviously could with his powers. If he hadn’t shown her his abilities first, she most certainly would have suspected mental illness. Or she would’ve suspected he was screwing with her, which would have made her furious. The latter would have been the worst case scenario, a betrayal of trust and a ruination of over a decade of friendship. Lana shivered. Something like that would be impossible to recover from.

From experience, Lana knew that anything serious enough to shake up your life will never be reconciled with in a day. There would be days when things would be too much. There would be days when everything seemed easy. Lana felt like she was watching the world upside down, but if Clark was still Clark, then everything would be fine. It had to be. Even if all that had changed was the context of their relationship (which was all she’d planned for) there would need to be room for adjustment. It was much more than she’d bargained for, but knowing all of him was exactly what she’d wanted. Whatever she decided now would set the course for the rest of her life. So there was really only one important question. 

Would she let Clark lead her through the unknown?

Lana almost laughed out loud. She didn’t trust her parents. She didn’t trust her friends. She didn’t even trust herself.

But she trusted Clark with her soul.

 _Of course I will,_ she thought. And so she spoke again.

“I am so sorry.” 

Clark looked at her in tired confusion. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I didn’t really expect you to believe me at first. It’s pretty unbelievable.”

Lana sat almost motionless save for the rapid rise and fall of her chest through shallow breaths. She didn’t know why, but she could feel tears forming fast.

“This probably would’ve gone over better if we were still kids,” she said. “I’m just sorry you had to hold it in for so long. Looking at everyone else and knowing you were different. Having to make sure everything you said or did wasn’t out of the ordinary. And then finding out your home’s gone…Clark, I’m so sorry.” Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “You must’ve felt so alone.”

He gave her a comforting smile.

“It’s okay. I had Mom and Dad,” Clark moved to her again to hold her hands in his. “And I had you.”

Lana stared back, watching how the low light of the city made his eyes a dark blue. They were magnetic, and drew on every thought and feeling about Clark she’d ever had until her head swam with the pounding of her heart in her ears. Even after all that happened tonight, nothing else mattered. Her breath caught, and she was dizzy with compulsion. Never the poster-child for self-control, she immediately gave in, and pressed her lips to his.

Lana felt him respond immediately, and her chest swelled knowing he was kissing her back. Gone were all the fleeting thoughts of him based in insecurity and denial. Any time there was a spark of attraction over the years, a flicker of love…she’d stamped it out. She’d assumed that Clark had only regarded her platonically, and if by some miracle he didn’t, she wasn’t good enough for him anyway so it would be better to just ignore it all. But as his hands pulled her closer to him, the other voice in her head came back. _Clark thinks you’re worth it,_ it said. It was true. He’d never given the impression that he thought anything less than the very best of her, and hell if she was ever going to prove him wrong.

Her hands were on the back of his neck and tangled in his hair, sliding her fingers through the thick, dark mass. His lips were softer than she’d expected, and she could feel them twitch up in the tiniest of smiles when she sighed into him.

Lana didn’t know how long it took but eventually they broke apart, remaining only inches from each other. Her fingers were still moving slowly through his hair, and her breathing was ragged. Clark leaned back in for two quick kisses, and she welcomed him, giggling. Then she leaned away to look at his face.

Clark wore a look of wonder, and her heart swelled. “Wow,” she whispered through kiss-swollen lips. “Who knew aliens would be such good kissers?”

Clark laughed. “You’re just taking it all in stride, huh?”

“Oh no. I'm still freaking the fuck out. I just don't know how to respond with anything other than teasing sass.”

“Because it's your default.”

"Duh."

"You're not too bad a kisser yourself, by the way."

Lana scoffed with a look of incredulity. "Not too bad? I'm _fantastic_."

"You're okay."

"Oh, please."

Clark kissed her again, but pulled away before she could react. "I won't inflate your head any bigger than it already is. I compliment you enough."

“So it wouldn’t be too much trouble to keep doing it, now would it?” Lana retorted with a raised eyebrow. Clark mimicked her expression, exaggerating heavily. It was too cute to resist kissing him again, so she did – a long one for the moment and a quick one for the road.

Lana looked at him and smiled, taking him in. This was all a lot to handle, and she knew she wasn’t fully comfortable with everything he'd told her yet. But she also knew now that this was how Clark always had been. Her finding out now didn’t change who he was or how either of them felt about each other. So she would have hope. Clark was worth that, and it would work out eventually. Lana relaxed as best as she could and found solace in knowing that one day soon it would all be old news to her. _But until then,_ she thought _, fake it till you make it._ Right now she could pretend things were like they always were, for herself and for him.

But there was still something else that needed addressing.

Lana kissed Clark one more time and touched his face affectionately.

"One more thing, though," said Lana. Clark twitched an eyebrow in response.

"Mmm?"

His eyes were still closed and the rest of him was completely serene. 

So she slapped him.

Clark jumped, eyes flying open with confusion. “W-Wha-?”

Lana’s face took on a mask of righteous fury. “Don’t you _ever_ scare me like that again! Did you really think that jumping off a goddamn building was the best course of action?! You could’ve done literally anything else, but you had to go and be that fucking dramatic. I was terrified! I thought you were about to die, you ass! What the hell?!”

Lana backhanded him in the chest this time, but not with nearly as much force. Clark opened his mouth, but closed it again before clenching his jaw and looking away. 

“I thought I was going to lose you,” mumbled Lana.

Clark gave her a soft look and kissed the top of her head. “I’m really sorry. At first I wanted to just talk but I could see how you were taking it so I panicked. I had to do something big to make you open to believing me. It was...the first thing I thought of, unfortunately.”

“Dumbass.”

“Yeah, I don’t disagree with you there.”

Lana sighed and looked back up at him. She’d said her piece. “Anything else you’ve got left to show me?”

Clark pulled back with a look of hesitance. “There is more, but...”

“Well, come on then. We don’t have all night.”

“Okay. Okay,” he conceded sheepishly. “I’m done demonstrating, though, so I’ll just explain. Not only am I strong, but I'm physically durable. Incredibly so, in fact. I've actually never come across something that could physically hurt me. Everything that forcefully comes into contact with me just...breaks. 

"All my senses are enhanced. My tactile, olfactory, and gustatory senses are pretty acute, and I can see things that are very small or very far away. I can hear low and high pitched frequencies that you wouldn’t hear, at lower volumes than the human brain can register. I can hear things much farther out, too. It’s pretty crazy. I can see through things too, unless it’s covered by something super dense, like lead. I can also expel air at really low temperatures. Mom calls it ‘freeze-breath.’”

Lana had been chuckling, which garnered a look of unease from Clark. “I can’t believe you just used the fancy names for touch, smell, and taste, you fucking _nerd_ ,” she said. “Wait, you can see through things? That’s so cool! I’d have a lot of fun with that power.”

Lana gave Clark’s body a slow once-over, and when they traveled back up to his face she offered a smirk that was downright predatory. But then the expression disappeared a second later under a look of curiosity as she spoke again. “You could be a super spy. Imagine all the weird shit you would find out.”

Clark chuckled. “I hardly ever eavesdrop. I don’t wanna invade anyone’s privacy.”

Lana pursed her lips and gave him a look. “God, you’re so boring. Have you no concept of life and how to live it?”

Clark just looked back at her patiently. 

“Ugh, fine,” she responded, looking at him fondly. “Be morally upstanding.”

“Of course. It’s what makes up most of my charm.”

Lana cocked an eyebrow dramatically. Clark was definitely more relaxed now. “I mean...that's not totally inaccurate. Do me a favor and stand all the way over there, by the edge of the building. I want to see if you can hear this. Oh, and don’t jump off again.”

Clark indulged her, and soon they were looking at each other from several yards away. It was pretty dark out now, so Lana could only see his silhouette while knowing Clark could probably see her clearly. She looked at where his face should be and whispered, “I’m still cooler than you.”

She heard him laugh, which automatically put a grin on her face. It was nice to find that somewhere in the moments that went by, she’d stopped pretending. 

“Tomatoes are disgusting,” she continued.

“Not true!” he called.

“Clark Kent has a great ass,” Lana whispered this time. Clark gave thanks in response. “Lana Lang has a better ass, though.”

He laughed again, and suddenly he was standing a few feet away from her again. It startled her, but she wasn’t truly afraid this time. “Debatable,” he said.

Lana tapped the space next to her and Clark sat back down. He passed her bag back to her and they decided to finish the rest of their food. They ate mostly in silence, sitting so closely together that practically Lana’s whole left side was touching Clark’s right. Lana finished first.

“So…this is heavy, Doc. You’re an alien and you’ve got a shit-ton of powers. The world’s upside down, we just made out and now we’re sitting here having dinner like none of that just happened. I’m still losing my mind. That’s the proper response, right?”

Clark finished the last bite of his sandwich, nodding. “Yeah, I’d say so. I’ve wanted to tell you – and kiss you – for quite a while now. Just didn’t know how to go about it.”

“Uh-huh. The alien part or the kissing part?”

“Yeah.”

“Naturally,” she chortled. “I totally understand. Kiss me again?”

Clark couldn’t contain his smile or enthusiasm to oblige. After a long, slow and intense kiss, Lana pulled back. She smiled first, and then made a face.

“What?” asked Clark.

“You asked for extra tomatoes or your sandwich, didn’t you?” Lana wrinkled her nose with a look of grave disappointment. “Looks like I’m gonna need some mouthwash.”

Clark laughed. “Now who’s dramatic.”

“Watch it, farm-boy.” Lana got up and started back toward the entrance to the roof. Clark followed close behind. “Or you won’t be getting any more of these lips.”

“You do realize you grew up on a farm too, right?”

She opened the door. “Yeah, but the difference is that it’s not written all over me.”

Lana turned around and quickly hopped up on her toes to give Clark another peck on the lips before heading back in. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, too, you know,” she murmured over her shoulder. Clark smiled.

The two of them went back inside and made their way down to Lana’s apartment.


	6. Krypton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How about some Kryptonian history?

Given the bombshell so recently dropped on Lana and the fact that she had much to do the next few days, Clark decided to give her space. After getting back from Central City, his first stop was “The Fortress,” as Kelex called it. He had Kelex take on an android form and found that he preferred it this way. 

Kelex walked over to the console and began running security and diagnostic scans of the Fortress and the planet. Clark was mesmerized at how much Kelex moved like a person. If he was being honest, Clark had actually regarded Kelex as a person since meeting him and was still getting used to the cognitive dissonance of knowing he was an A.I.

“Hey, Kelex. Is there an easier way I can get back here? I’ve been flying here all the way from the Midwest.”

Kelex didn’t look up from the console, but responded amiably. “ _Y_ _ou could use the Zeta teleporter from your pod. This is what it looks like_.”

Another hologram was projected over the console, showing a small cube-like device. Kelex worked the console again, which caused a crystal to form inside the matter manipulation chamber. Kelex's small flying bot retrieved it and gave it to Clark. It glowed faintly.

“ _That crystal is directly connected to the Fortress’s location,_ ” said Kelex. “ _Think of it as a homing beacon. Attach it to the Zeta teleporter, and it will bring you to this console. Given the size of this planet, you can beam a maximum of one thousand kilograms from anywhere on Earth to the Fortress. Other crystals can be made for more locations on this planet, of course._ ”

“Wow, thanks,” said Clark. “This’ll definitely come in handy.”

Clark decided to begin his lessons on Krypton's archive-documented history. He was surprised to find that Kryptonians did not seem all that different than humans. In some instances, he might’ve assumed he was listening to Earth’s history if he hadn’t been aware he was studying Krypton’s.

_Millions of cycles ago (as their years were called on Krypton, translated to English), eleven “tribes” lived apart from one another. Krypton was a small planet and most of its surface was either water or small continents made of rock and crystal, so these tribes lived on small amounts of habitable land composed of jungle and volcanic environments. Nobody knew how they’d come to be separated into their own communities, only that they had been. In desperation brought about by the planet’s harsh conditions and the lack of habitable land, the tribes eventually came together for survival through collaboration. This laid the groundwork for planetary unification and the development of a common culture._

_Together, the tribes of Krypton learned to take advantage of their environment’s resources and mine the crystals as they did the metals of their planet. Study of both metal and crystal was the key to technological advancement. Over millions of cycles they’d learned to build complex cities and modes of transportation as well as adapt to and reform the environments around them. Kryptonians made their planet’s atmosphere more stable, learned how to establish long-lasting habitations on crystal continents, and create tools that seamlessly blended crystal and metal together. The last breakthrough catalyzed the process for altering the planet’s environments themselves. As a result of improving the extreme conditions of many parts of the planet, the population climbed from a hundred thousand at the onset of unification to over one and a half billion Kryptonians by the end of the thousand-cycle period that would come to be known as the “Age of Crystals.”_

_After using their knowledge of crystal and metal to make Krypton more habitable, Kryptonians had come to explore and reach beyond the confines of their own planet. Curiosity led to interstellar travel in the hopes of gaining knowledge and establishing potentially symbiotic relationships with other worlds. Some expressed the notion of interplanetary colonization, but this proved particularly difficult. Many of times the planets’ environments were less than ideal, and the effectiveness of terraforming varied._

_At first, the expeditions went as planned and they were able to associate with beings from over a dozen galaxies. As time went on, however, many of the civilizations they came across did not take kindly to their invitations. Most Kryptonian envoys only traveled to just outside a planet’s orbit, but many saw their attempts at communication as invasion (though in the case of potential Kryptonian colonizers they were correct), and so attacked without mercy. This trend grew steadily for over fifty cycles, and Kryptonians grew more and more prejudiced and xenophobic as a result._

_As interplanetary association increased (particularly with Coluans and Rannians), so did the conflict incited by those who did not want foreigners on their planet. This, paired with the sudden onset of a worldwide famine caused by a Krolotean virus likely brought back from an expedition, created the perfect storm for civil war. Starvation and warfare killed almost a third of Krypton’s entire population, and those who were openly on the side of foreign assimilation (about a quarter of those left) were driven off the planet and into exile. Most settled on a nearby planet called Daxam and mingled with the inhabitants there, who they’d discovered previously were a welcoming civilization and similar in genetic makeup to Kryptonians._

_Eventually, Daxamites who were descendants of the exiled Kryptonians evolved to differ from their ancestors through environmental adaptation and inter-species copulation. Those who remained on Krypton saw the formation of the High Council, which established a formal unified government that presided over all of Krypton. Previously, all major cities, though working very closely in tandem with one another in many efforts, had mainly governed themselves while respecting the borders and boundaries of their neighbors. The High Council was established by the leaders of all major cities in an effort to unify the planet under common law and prevent as large a cultural divide as that which caused a civil war. The implementation of this drastic change was spearheaded with particular vehemence by the leaders of Kandor and Argo City._

_With its population now down to less than a billion people, Krypton saw a sharp decline in exploration and instead focused on using science and technology to solve and prevent problems. The foremost method was through genetic editing as Kryptonians made breakthroughs in physiology, medicine, and gene engineering. After rigorous testing and perfection of the discipline, the High Council decreed a worldwide inoculation, where all Kryptonian citizens would undergo genetic alteration to protect them from disease, injury, and even famine (as was the root cause of the new advancements in the first place). In the latter case, Kryptonians altered their genetic makeup to allow their cells to absorb radiation as a form of sustenance. Moderate amounts of radiation absorbed as sunlight from their red star, Rao (since sunlight was always in abundance), would serve as the energy needed to catalyze any and all biological processes that sustained them. Due to a red star’s relatively low amount of energy filtered through Krypton’s atmosphere, it wouldn’t be enough to live on indefinitely. However, it did greatly reduce the demand for food, effectively eliminating the possibility of another great famine. This also created the gene for lighter skin, as it helped cells to fully absorb and store energy instead of letting it dissipate over time._ _Kryptonians altered their own genes for aesthetics as well. Anything deemed a deformity or cause of disability was phased out, though most of the diverse Kryptonian genome was allowed to remain. Krypton’s populace was an amalgamation of various heights, eye and hair colors, body types, hair types and more. Average life expectancy grew considerably, injecting a larger age gap into the population as well and ushering Krypton into a golden age._

_Science, aesthetics, and indulgence were the characteristic ideals of Krypton’s golden age. The ethics concerning these ideals were only determined by their proposed usefulness and capacity to improve Kryptonian life both individually and collectively (as long as they did not clash with Krypton’s isolationist policies). As a result, experimentation was rampant in all facets of life. New materials were invented, polyamory became the norm, and music and architecture were at the forefront of society. Monumental structures were built in even bigger cities and Kandor, Krypton’s capital, doubled in size. Further scientific advancement led to the discovery of the Phantom Zone, a barren dimension outside of time. The potential applications of this dimension intrigued the Council, but no uses were set to be proposed until extensive studies had been conducted._

_Unfortunately, with prosperity on Krypton came the seeds of paranoia. As time went on, the High Council became increasingly wary of potential threats to Kryptonian peace. The bulk of the Council’s policies and decrees during this time were concerning military expansion, the last of which being the decree for mandatory military training. Following the order, children were required to learn the basics for military enlistment in tandem with their compulsory studies of scientific disciplines. This way of life persisted until Krypton’s destruction._

Clark continued to listen to Kelex read from the archives, and grew more enraptured as the remaining history grew more personal to him.

_Fifty-three cycles before Krypton exploded, incessant weapons testing deep in the Lurvan continent resulted in a powerful explosion that triggered a massive seismic event. Unbeknownst to the general population and ignored by the High Council, this single occurrence catalyzed the destruction of Krypton._

_Thirty-five cycles later, it was discovered by renowned scientists and brothers Jor-El and Zor-El that the tectonic plates were shifting out of alignment, and the planet’s core was unstable. When they presented their findings to the High Council, however, their claims were dismissed as an overreaction to a lack of evidence. Jor-El had suggested a worldwide evacuation, but pride and xenophobia rejected that proposal. The only major figure with significant influence on Krypton who believed them was Dru-Zod, the leader of Krypton’s military forces and honorary Council member._

_At the time, however, General Zod was increasingly being regarded as a renegade who had proposed initiatives against the High Council’s ideals. Zod advocated for interplanetary scouting missions to gather intelligence on prospective threats. The Council did not allow this, reasoning that it could be construed as an act of war on other planets. Zod had also proposed a cloning program, intended to create expendable troops instead of risking natural-born Kryptonian lives. This was vehemently rejected as well, since clones were considered an abomination on Krypton. Common values dictated that people were born, not made, and therefore clones were merely a grotesque shadow of the real thing._

_After cycles of further study and experimentation, Jor-El, Zor-El, and Dru-Zod returned to the Council amid a substantial increase in seismic activity across the planet. The Council ignored them again, much to the ire of Zod. It was then that he began to set his plans for a coup in motion, gathering his support in secret. Jor-El, never condoning the isolationist rhetoric of the Council, held several clandestine meetings with a Coluan, Vril Dox, and a Rannian, Sardath, in order to devise a way to stabilize the planet’s core and save Krypton. He had hoped he could join Kryptonian expertise regarding their crystals with Colu’s perfected shrinking technology and Rann’s Zeta Beam technology to minimize the damage or form an evacuation plan. However, as skirmishes instigated by Zod’s forces grew more frequent and caused ample collateral damage, Vril withdrew from the partnership after suffering several injuries. Sardath remained, working with Jor-El to try and perfect material teletransportation._

_In time, the majority of Krypton’s formal armed forces had come to side with Zod against the Council, but many refused to stand with him in the event of a coup. Most did not condone the idea of intentionally fighting their own people in open rebellion, even if they disagreed with the High Council’s rule. As a result, when Zod led his troops to storm the High Council’s citadel on Kandor, half of Krypton’s army did not fight at all. Zod led 450,000 soldiers to overthrow the High Council, but could not stand against the million ordered to protect the citadel. After two days, the rebellion was put down and the High Council commanded a ruthless hunt to weed out insurgents and those who shared rebellious views whether they had fought or not._

_This led to the imprisonment of thousands of Kryptonian citizens and the discovery of people smuggled in from other planets. Many were criminals, but many more were merely refugees from other planets. The High Council’s radicalism spurred the imprisonment of all foreigners, with a choice few getting particularly brutal treatment. It was then that the Council decided to use the Phantom Zone as a prison. After cycles of study (the several most recent conducted by Jor-El), seven prisoners were sent to the Phantom Zone in a widely public demonstration. The prisoners were Dru-Zod of Kandor, Faora Hu-Ul of Kandor, Jax-Ur of Rao City, Dev-Em of Daxam, Dal’en of Mars, Sy’rann of Mars, and Kragg Gorn Kee of Tamaran. Even though the disorder and strife of rebellion had been quashed, Krypton would never see another day of peace._

_Half a cycle before Krypton’s destruction, amidst the growing chaos and natural disasters, the planet was invaded by a being known as the Collector of Worlds in an attack that lasted less than a day. Not much was known about this being, but it was described as a disfigured cyborg with the visage of a Coluan male and three glowing electrodes on its head. It controlled thousands of mechanized drones remotely, using them to access all of Krypton’s archive data in the Fortress of Argo City. Perplexingly, the Collector of Worlds did not attack the Kryptonian people outright, and only killed Kryptonian troops when directly opposed. His last act before withdrawing from the planet was to shrink and steal the entire city of Kandor, leaving only an enormous crater in its place. It would stay that way until Krypton’s destruction, and those close enough to witness it gave the Coluan cyborg its epithet._

Clark’s heart was racing as he listened, knowing he was almost finished. Kelex had informed him that Jor-El created the artificial intelligence around the time he had begun studying the Phantom Zone, and so everything that had occurred from Jor-El and Zor-El’s discovery of Krypton’s unstable core onward was told from personal memory. Clark saw that his father was an important figure on Krypton, and was oddly proud. He continued to the end.

_Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van, a renowned engineer, had borne a son just before The Collector’s attack on Krypton, and the two of them were anxious for their child’s safety more than ever. Lara, along with Jor sought out Zor-El and his wife Alura In-Ze for their help in devising a plan to escape Krypton with their children. Zor and Alura, having a daughter of their own, agreed. Lara, Zor and Kara together designed and built the children’s pods first, while Jor and Alura programmed the pods’ capabilities and extensions separately. Despite the near daily dose of seismic activity from the planet, the High Council remained stubborn and the five of them had to work in secret. Because of this, construction took much longer than expected and the pods were not finished by the time Krypton saw its last day._

Clark knew what happened next. He’d stopped listening and quietly soaking up the information, opting instead to question Kelex directly.

“Kelex…did anyone else make it off Krypton?” he asked softly.

“ _I have no record of any other departures from the planet that day, by any of the normal means._ ”

In his studies, he’d learned that most Kryptonians traveled long distances one of two ways: by gravity manipulation-based propulsion of a vehicle and by interdimensional travel via the Phantom Zone, though the Council’s decrees made it so only military vehicles had the long distance capabilities to travel off-world. Rannians, as few people like Jor-El knew, had developed something called a Zeta Beam, which allowed instantaneous transport with a maximum range of several light-years. The only drawback was that there needed to be a straight path available to one’s destination, or the effects could be disastrous. While on Krypton, Sardath and Jor-El had worked to rectify this problem but had not fully achieved success by the time Krypton exploded. They’d only been able to solve the issue for short-range transport, and not the range that the original design allowed. Unfortunately, Sardath had departed from Krypton a quarter cycle before its destruction when recalled to assist in the defense of his home against invaders from a planet called Thanagar.

Clark nodded sadly in response to Kelex. He’d been expecting that answer, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. In fact, it hurt more, because now he’d had information about his family. His mother and father had been scientists, as were his aunt and uncle. He’d had an aunt and uncle. He’d had an older cousin, too. But now all of them were gone.

His heart and mind were conflicted. In reality, he’d had parents – Jonathan and Martha Kent. He loved them both with all of his heart and wouldn’t have traded them for anything. But…now he missed his biological parents. A glimpse into the family he could have had was almost too much to handle. So far, he didn’t even know what any of them looked like except for his father. He wanted to go back in time and watch them, see them as they were – as they lived – on the planet they’d called home. Guilt crept in, infecting sadness, as if he were being ungrateful for Jonathan and Martha taking him in and loving him like any parent would. He didn’t want to feel like they weren’t enough. He didn’t want to feel like he was asking for more than they could ever give him, because they’d given him everything they could.

“Why couldn’t they come with me?” Clark whispered.

“ _Because of the exponential increase in seismic activity in a short amount of time,” said Kelex, “Jor could not accurately predict when Krypton would explode. He had worked to save all of Krypton first, but as he and Lara realized the futility of that endeavor, they began the work to save their family instead. They worked as quickly as they could, but even your pod was not entirely completed by the time it needed to be used._ ”

“It wasn’t?”

“ _No. Jor believed that it was imperative you knew about Krypton and all it had to offer. He created the small crystal and its vessel, meant to be joined to make this Fortress, as you well know by now, while Lara and Kara designed and built the long-range propulsion systems for your pod. Jor-El retrofitted his Zeta teleporter to your pod to assist with travel, deeming a phantom drive too dangerous. However, Kara still built one into your pod for emergencies. This was likely without his knowledge, though I am not sure. Despite all this, your pod still lacked the cloaking capabilities originally intended._ ”

Clark wiped his eyes roughly, rising from his seat on the floor and forcing himself to get a handle on his emotions. Lana expected him later, and he didn’t want to be holding on to any of that negativity when he saw her. There was one last thing he needed, though.

“My mother, Lara…is there anything from her, like a message or something? Like there was from my dad?”

 _“I have no recorded messages from Lara. However, there is one image I have stored from Jor’s first holographic test scan. Would you like to see it?_ ”

Clark stayed rooted to the spot and nodded apprehensively. “Please.”

A large hologram was projected upwards from the console, showing a crystal clear image. Five people stood in a large circular room that was brightly lit, awash in red and gold light. They all were in different positions and facing different ways, but they all wore similar garments. Each of them wore a colored bodysuit under a white robe with the same symbol on Clark’s ship. He wondered if it was something that signified Krypton or if it was something more personal. 

Clark noticed his father immediately, facing sideways and in the middle of talking to a woman a foot away. Both her hair and eyes were brown, and she had an angular face with high cheekbones. Her expression was one of fond exasperation, as if she’d heard whatever he was saying a thousand times but didn’t have the heart to stop him from telling it again. The right side of the image held three other people further away. Another woman about the same age as the first was caught walking across the room to the other two on the right. She had short light brown hair that seemed to Clark like it would bounce. A second man stood arm in arm with the last person in the picture, a young woman with long, wavy blonde hair. She and the second woman looked very similar. The man looked like Clark’s father, but was taller and slimmer. He had his head bent down slightly, showing a small bald spot in the middle of black hair. The woman at his side, who didn’t look more than seventeen or eighteen earth years old, was looking up at the man with an animated expression. It looked like they’d been in the middle of an interesting discussion.

Clark stared in wonder at the five people in the hologram. This was his family, in a normal moment on Krypton. He looked at each face and memorized it, matching their names with the information he had from left to right. Lara, Jor, Alura, Zor, and Kara. He stared at his cousin, realizing that he was probably older now than she’d ever gotten to be.

Clark blinked, his eyes burning wet again before he could stop it. He took a long look at the whole image again, then finally turned away. “Thanks, Kelex,” he said quietly.

“ _You are welcome, Kal._ ”

***********************************

General Zod stood on the bridge of his warship, tall and upright, hands clasped behind his back. At his sides were Jax and Faora, which gave him the mild comfort of familiarity amidst his brooding. His encounter with the being who’d freed him unnerved him in a way he'd never experienced. He had no way of knowing what it truly was, but he knew his escape obviously came with a catch. Nobody with power did anything for free. So when his emancipator came to collect, he would have to be ready. Unfortunately, it would be a considerable challenge to plan for someone about whom he knew almost nothing. The only information he had to go on was that he’d met a cyborg whose organic parts looked Coluan and vaguely male. Coluans were a fairly intelligent as a species, even more so than Kryptonians. On the whole, they were a benevolent civilization, but it would be foolish to make an assumption on an individual from the whole. If Zod was not careful, they could all end up right back where they were now. 

Zod freed his two comrades almost immediately after the being's departure, but left the remaining prisoners in their cells. It was imperative that he devise a strategy to deal with the others when they finally escaped before releasing them. Ironically, he was grateful for the Kryptonian High Council’s insistence on formality during the very public event of their imprisonment because knowing who they were was now invaluable. In the Phantom Zone, none of them was much of a threat to the others in terms of physical harm, but back in their known universe was an entirely different story.

Of the four different species present on the ship, Martians were the most dangerous. They had a wide range of physical and mental abilities and were one of the most formidable races Kryptonians had ever encountered. The only reason the High Council had even the slightest chance of imprisoning them was because of the chaos of battle and the fact that practically half of Kandor had been on fire at the time. To say that the Martian fear of fire was debilitating would be a massive understatement. They basically had no control over their powers when in a panic, so Zod figured he had a way to deal with them if need be. Their powers did not work in the Phantom Zone due to the lack of a physical body, but once they were out they would be practically unstoppable if he didn’t act quickly. Perhaps he could strike a deal with them - in the presence of fire, of course.

The Daxamite would be as much as a threat as any normal Kryptonian, so Zod didn’t worry much about him. The Tamaranean, however, would be difficult to deal with, given his superior strength and durability. It was common knowledge that Tamaranean physiology allowed for the absorption of ultraviolet radiation and subsequent conversion into usable energy. The discovery of this knowledge was actually the inspiration for Kryptonian genetic engineering in the wake of the Great Famine almost four hundred cycles ago. At least that’s how long it had been when Zod was imprisoned. He had no idea how much time had passed since then.

What worried Zod most was the Coluan’s plan. Their emancipator had suggested that all of them were chosen to be freed, so Zod thought it imprudent to simply leave the other prisoners in the Phantom Zone. But this benefactor was not here to give and enforce any further orders and Zod had no use for the other prisoners. A short conversation with Jax and Faora eased his mind, as he had always valued their counsel despite being unequivocally in command – especially Faora’s. The three of them would take the necessary precautions to protect themselves, and would probably free the others if they proved non-hostile. The sooner they got rid of them, the better.

Turning away from his companions, Zod walked back down the bridge the way he came. Holding the strange device given to him, his fingers itched with the thought that he literally had freedom within his grasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! :)


	7. I'm So Proud of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some time alone, and a cozy night in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a super long chapter for y'all. What starts with an "S" and rhymes with "butt"?

Clark had so much energy lately, finally feeling like his life was moving forward with purpose. Over the next month he slowly formed a plan to begin helping people on a larger scale. Clark eventually told his mother about the Fortress and learning of his home planet, spurring a long conversation that included his future plans regarding his powers and the recent news about Lana, much to Martha’s delight. When at home, Clark took up all the chores and fixed anything and everything around the farm. He fixed the barn doors so that they wouldn’t creak, the cracks in the ceiling in the kitchen, the leaky faucet in the bathtub, and the fence around the chicken coop in the first week back. He’d even remodeled his old loft in the barn. The sale of the house to Lana’s extended family would take a little while to be finalized, but he figured he could get everything in even better shape long before then. Little by little, he’d helped Martha start sorting the things they’d take with them from the things they wouldn’t.

At the Fortress, Clark found that Kelex had the ability to access any and all electronic data on Earth, and so used that to his advantage. Clark made sure to learn the Kryptonian language as best he could, as well as many of Earth’s languages that he had not already learned. At about twelve languages, he’d decided that was a good place to stop. Kelex served as decent conversational practice, but Clark still found learning languages to be rather difficult. He struggled with sign languages particularly, since the movements came with postures and expressions that denoted specific connotations. If he was at all representative of Kryptonian intelligence and ability, then they hadn’t been all that more advanced than humans in terms of capacity. According to Kelex, it was more likely that Krypton was so advanced because of millions of cycles of technological achievements, not because they were naturally more intelligent. Clark considered himself extremely lucky he had powers and an artificial intelligence at his disposal. Otherwise it would have taken him years to be proficient in a language it had actually only taken several days to learn.

Moving on to further his training, he and Kelex created a testing center for his powers that doubled as a small obstacle course designed to push his limits and foster mastery of his powers. The hardest part for him was estimating the amount of power he would need to exert, especially when the challenges became much more difficult. Sometimes he’d have to carry several thousand tons or move through manipulated gravity, which required much more strength and balance than he’d normally have to use. 

Clark discovered that he could actually get tired if driven far enough. He’d done a test on his heat vision and blasted a large piece of crystal as forcefully as he could for as long as he could. After about three full minutes, he’d actually started to feel groggy and had needed to take a breather. Most recently, he’d tested his flight stamina in a scenario where he’d have to stay above ground for hours while flying against the force of Earth’s gravity multiplied by fifty. The ground was electrified to give him a little extra motivation, and after about four hours Clark found out how much it hurt to be electrocuted. Even though he was extraordinarily durable, some things harmful to humans had the potential to be harmful to him as well.

Despite all the practice, Clark knew it didn't take into account the human element. He would need to get that training and experience firsthand. He’d have no choice but to fully come out to the world. Doubt seeped into him more and more at the idea. He wasn’t human, anyway. Did he really have a right to try and single-handedly change things for them, even if it was for the better? Was it even possible? Earth had been his home for as long as he could remember and he felt like its problems were his. If he could do something to make the world a better place, then why shouldn’t he? But…how many would accept him as a foreigner with so much power? Benevolent intentions were all well and good, but what if nobody felt safe because they thought they were being manipulated by an alien overlord?

Deciding to talk with the two most important women in his life for guidance, he shut off most of the Fortress’s systems and had Kelex do routine diagnostic scans before grabbing the Zeta teleporter.

He’d used it for the first time almost a month ago, teleporting himself and his ship back to the Fortress. Clark had tinkered with it using Kelex as a guide, learning the physics and mechanics of the device. Its travel range was directly proportional to its charge and inversely proportional to its mass range. Clark figured that on his journey to Earth from Krypton, it could beam a maximum distance of almost two light-years in empty space. Apparently this was short-range compared to Rann’s normal teleportation capabilities. The main drawback was that the power source (a radioactive metal about which even Kelex knew next to nothing and definitely not from Earth) emitted energy extremely slowly, which meant that the device needed to charge up again before enough energy was available to be used for long distance teleportation. Luckily for Clark, even if he’d wanted to go to the other side of the planet, he would only need to wait about fifteen and a half seconds to use the teleporter again. Despite Jor-El and Sardath having fixed the need for empty space when Zeta-beaming, there still needed to be a point of focus in order to direct the beam. Otherwise it would just teleport the length of its available range in the direction of least resistance. This was why Kelex had given him the “homing crystal."

Clark put the device in his pocket and flew out of the Fortress thinking about Lana. She had started to get used to his powers, and was now comfortable enough to have him use them around her while they were alone. She’d even asked for him to heat up leftover food with his heat vision last week, although it took a while to get there. His strength, his x-ray vision, and his ability to fly were the easiest for her to digest, but early on Lana had specifically asked him not to use his super-speed or heat vision without warning her first. Clark knew it was a lot to handle, so he made sure he did whatever she needed him to so she could feel comfortable.

It was a stark change, considering they had seen each other more times in the past few weeks than they had in the past two years. Part of Clark was worried that they might be moving too fast all of a sudden (even if his mother would argue they had been moving too slowly for years), but Lana seemed to be going along with it just fine, so Clark wasn’t going to complain.

Clark was cruising at about Mach 2 before slowing down to half the speed of sound to check his vibrating phone. It was a text from the woman he’d just been thinking about.

_OFFICIALLY ON SPRING BREAK!!! Come over?_

He decided he would. After texting his mom that he’d be in Central City, Clark told Lana he was on his way and wondered if Chloe was home with her. Clark liked Chloe, especially after visiting for roommate game nights, but he had to admit he hoped she wasn’t home.

*******************

Lana was finally free – at least for the next week or so. The first thought she’d had when coming home from her group lab session was to sleep for a few years. She needed the rest, and had even cut back her time volunteering at the animal shelter just for more time to relax. Lana hadn’t had a job in over a year purely out of choice, because she knew the added stress would make her want to set everything on fire. She’d had a job all throughout undergrad and still had a bunch of money saved up, but she’d also had the memories of being sleep deprived and over-caffeinated for almost three years straight to go along with that. Lana knew she was lucky though. Her parents had saved thousands of dollars since she was born for her college tuition, and since she’d gotten grants and scholarships to pay for that, her mother had given her what was saved to cover whatever else was needed. _About the only thing they ever got right_ , she thought bitterly, unlocking her front door. She shook her head, chastising herself. They weren’t bad all the time. Just most of the time.

Lana texted Clark to come over after showering and got a response that he’d be there in about forty-five minutes. She’d dried the excess water off of her body and relished in the knowledge that she’d be home alone for the weekend. Chloe had called her a few hours earlier saying that she would be going back to Kansas City for a couple of days to see her dad and brother, which meant that Lana could be totally free. Foregoing clothing altogether, she let her hair air-dry and went about making dinner completely nude. Ten minutes later, some chicken and chopped vegetables were placed in the oven.

Lana brought her laptop out to the kitchen to browse through some YouTube videos, but she couldn’t focus on any of them. Every so often her mind would drift to thoughts of Clark. She wouldn’t dare sacrifice her composure and ogle him openly, but she’d always spent many of their moments together stealing glances to admire the way he looked.

Between Lana and her roommate, Lana was the least boy-crazy, though that wasn’t saying much. Unfortunately, she was entirely straight and didn’t normally come across many guys who could stifle their idiocy long enough to stimulate those feelings in her and so often went a while without sex, much to the teasing of her roommate. _Obviously Clark doesn’t have that problem_ , she thought. _With his annoyingly perfect smile and annoyingly wholesome farm-boy charm and his annoyingly gorgeous everything._ Not being immune, she figured it wouldn’t be difficult for him to get other women to feel the same way. A grimace touched her face as she scrolled mindlessly. The thought of Clark having sex with some random woman was definitely not one of her favorites. Lana had noticed, and willfully ignored, women (and men) leering at him when they took walks around the neighborhood, knowing full well that if she didn’t control her emotions she had the potential to be quite the jealous girlfriend. Thankfully, Clark seemed to be totally oblivious to all the staring.

She smiled to herself. It was annoying, but Lana found that she liked being all excited about him. At any moment she could be possessed by the urge to kiss him, run her fingers through his hair, or jump on his back for a piggyback ride. _Or maybe ride him a different way_ , she thought. Lana hoped to get a hold on that persistent train of thought. For as long as she’d known Clark, she had always been vaguely aware of all his great qualities and how much of a catch he was. But ever since the night that they kissed for the first time Lana had been feeling her acknowledgement melt into a longing that was getting harder and harder to control.

Clark never made a move on her, which was both endearing and frustrating. By now, Lana would have lost interest if it had been anyone else. But she’d caught the way he looked at her. She figured out early on that Clark wanted her just as much as she wanted him or even more so, but was too used to being careful all the time to unabashedly take what he wanted. She couldn’t blame him. After spending all those years being so cautious about his powers, the habit had to have developed emotionally as well. Either way, she preferred dealing with someone considerate over someone who wasn’t.

Admittedly, she hadn’t taken any initiative either. The first couple of weeks after their kiss were a little awkward, to put it mildly, and the two of them were a little tentative to explore this new territory. But that did nothing to dampen her feelings. Clark had a way of flawlessly mixing his shy, good-natured side with his confident sarcastic side, which Lana found irrefutably attractive. Even his awkwardness was charming, especially when he’d cover up any embarrassment with a well-placed one-liner. In truth, Lana had always had a thing for him. It had just been covered up by her loneliness when she was a teenager. Lana would never admit it out loud, but her knowledge of the fact that she didn’t need friends did absolutely nothing to erase the fact that she desperately wanted friends. So when Clark came into her life, all lanky arms and wavy hair, she held onto him tight and never let him go.

Funnily enough, it had only taken one physically intimate action to make the switch from friend to something more. It was like her heart had been frantically waiting for any small opening it could use to tell her brain what was up, and then it took its chance. Before, she’d miss Clark from time to time but going months without talking with him was never that big a deal. Now, talking to him made her giddy with excitement and she couldn’t go a day without doing so at some point. Of course, she was always smooth and kept her cool when she did. She wouldn’t let a man’s ego run rampant with the knowledge she was completely head over heels for him, even if it was Clark.

Lana’s phone vibrated and she snatched it up. She had a text from Clark asking if she’d eaten.

“Shit,” she whispered, cursing her absentmindedness. Lana was cooking with Clark in mind but obviously forgot to tell him that. Instead of texting back, she decided to take a video. Too lazy to put on any clothes she recorded herself aiming just above the top of her chest. A mischievous smirk slipped onto her face with the knowledge that she was about to make this video completely naked. It wasn’t obvious, but she figured Clark would have an idea if he was observant enough. The thought of it sent a warm shiver up her spine.

“I am currently making dinner, so make sure you get here with an empty stomach. You can bring some snacks and booze if you want, though.” Lana dropped her voice a little. “It’s just us tonight.”

She sent the video message to Clark. After setting pasta to boil on the stove, she went to get dressed. Pulling on a white sports bra, matching underwear, black leggings and a green long-sleeved crop top, Lana chuckled at the idea of answering the door totally nude when Clark arrived. The look on his face would be hilarious. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail and went to check on the food.

Lana checked her phone and saw a text from Clark, immediately preceded by a heart-eyes emoji.

_See you soon._

Cooking had lulled Lana into a peaceful state of mild relaxation, but now she was all perked up again. When the pasta was ready, she turned everything off and set the table while humming to herself. An easy night in with Clark was exactly what Lana wanted and needed, and it came a lot quicker than expected as the doorbell rang.

Lana padded over on bare feet and answered the door to find her best friend (boyfriend? she wasn’t sure, they hadn’t yet had that conversation) with a thoughtful expression on his face that immediately changed into a smile. Lana snaked her hands around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him slowly, savoring the feel of his lips.

“Hello to you, too,” said Clark after they broke apart.

Lana pulled him inside by the arm. He was holding two small bags and a case of beer. “Hey, handsome. You hungry?”

Clark chuckled at her exaggerated deep voice. “Always. Where’s Chloe?”

“Well that just does wonders for my ego.” Lana took the bags from him and put them on the kitchen counter before draining the pasta she’d left on the stove.

Her voice was teasing, but Clark still soothed. He walked up behind her at the sink and wrapped his arms around her waist. She settled back into him as he kissed her cheek. “It should, because I’m trying to have you all to myself. I missed you.”

Lana tried to hold back a smile, but failed. They’d seen each other five days ago and texted every day since, but hell if she didn’t miss him too.

“She’s staying with family for the weekend. It’s just you and me.”

They hadn’t really had much extended alone time over the past month, as Lana had a busy schedule and Clark hadn’t wanted to crowd her much. He’d visited every week and sometimes more than once in a week, but he never stayed the night. Clark wasn’t sure what the protocol was for whatever he had with Lana at the moment, and neither one of them had initiated a conversation about it. It wasn’t exactly awkward between them, but there was definitely an elephant in the room that was getting ignored.

Lana turned around in Clark’s arms and hopped up on her tiptoes to kiss him. It was a quick peck with jovial energy that made him laugh before she slipped away to serve the food and open beer bottles. Clark made sure to help, and soon they were eating with Lana at one end of the table and him at her left.

They talked while they ate, swapping stories of the day’s activities. Lana was fascinated with things that involved Clark’s powers, now that she knew. Admittedly, she had always thought it would be extremely cool (albeit terrifying) to find that humans weren’t alone in the universe but finding out her best friend was an alien was something she just hadn’t been ready for. During the first week she pretended to be totally chill about it while still internally freaking out, but by the end of the second week she found it wasn’t really much of an act. The more she saw Clark, the more relaxed she became. Nothing about Clark’s personality or demeanor had changed much, which made it easier for her to ease into acceptance. Now she was excited to hear about Clark’s “Fortress.”

Clark listened intently as she rambled about her project concerning a jet engine, her lecture, and her professional applications her professors had urged their students to complete for months now. She’d applied for internships and fellowships with all the big names first (The Boeing Company, NASA, Kord Industries, Tesla, and LuthorCorp) before going on to apply for a bunch of other ones after researching little by little. She hadn’t gotten into Kord or NASA, but was still waiting on responses from the other three. Clark loved hearing Lana talk about engineering, because even though it took a lot out of her he knew that she loved it. Most of her life had been devoid of choice, so being in Central City with the opportunity to do what she thought would make her happy and was important to Clark.

Lana watched Clark finish the last of his food. His tongue darted out to catch the sauce at the corner of his mouth, revealing one of his shallow dimples and accentuating his jaw. He was wearing mostly black today, except for the white t-shirt beneath his open black and grey flannel. There was no jacket this time, so she could see the outline of his broad shoulders. She whimpered internally. _He’s so gorgeous it’s almost annoying_ , she thought. _It’s obviously because he’s an alien. Humans don’t get to look that good all the time._

“You’re staring,” said Clark suddenly. Lana jumped at his interjection, snapping back to reality.

She finished her plate. “Well, yeah. You’re quite the looker.”

He chuckled, smirking with a hint of a blush. _No fucking way!_ Lana screamed in her head. _You can’t be adorable and sexy at the same time. It’s not fair! There are rules to this shit._

“Thanks. I guess I’m not bad looking,” Clark responded, getting up and taking their dishes. He turned the faucet in the kitchen sink on and barely a minute later the dishes were all washed.

Watching his speed wasn’t nearly as alarming for Lana as it used to be. “That’s like saying the sun is just kinda warm,” she answered.

“It _is_ kinda warm.”

“Your modesty is ridiculous.”

“I like to leave the cockiness to you. It’s well deserved anyway.”

“Damn straight.” Lana retrieved her laptop and put on a playlist before setting it aside and heading to the couch. Clark followed and they settled on the left side, Lana half sitting in his lap with her legs stretched out horizontally. The music played softly in the background while they talked, laughing and teasing and debating in serious tones. Lana had her arm draped across his left shoulder so that her hand was resting between his shoulder blades when she leaned back against the side of the couch. Clark’s left arm sat on the armrest against which Lana was leaning, so that she was resting against his arm as well and his hand held her left side. His right hand rested on top of her legs, occasionally drifting back and forth over her leggings. They were soft, clinging to her muscular legs like a second skin. When in this position, he never could keep his hands off them for long. Not that he wanted to anyway. Lana’s presence had a way of making itself felt, so whenever she was close his senses were completely flooded with her. The only scent in the air was hers. The spot on his back where her fingers rested burned. The proximity had him almost screaming internally with the need to be closer to her.

Clark was acutely aware of Lana’s voice as well, so even when distracted he had no problem paying attention to the conversation. She was animated, talking about how much she loved _The Breakfast Club_ even though she acknowledged how overhyped it’s been over the years. He couldn’t help but smile. She was waving her free hand around with her words in tandem with outrageous facial expressions. Lana wasn’t normally super talkative, but she was with him. He liked that.

“But the song at the end!” she exclaimed. “It’s so good. It feels just like the movie feels.”

“Yeah, I do love that song,” said Clark. “But my favorite 80s movie is still _Ferris Bueller’s Day Off_.”

Lana rolled her eyes while a smile grew on her face. “I guess we can’t all have impeccable movie taste, can we?”

He gave her an offended look. “What? That movie is great!”

“I don’t disagree. But better than _The Breakfast Club_ though? That’s just crazy talk.”

Clark narrowed his eyes at her in mock annoyance. They settled in even closer than they were before. Clark’s hand went back to gliding over her legs. Lana dragged her hand across the top of Clark’s back and up his neck, fingertips barely sliding over his skin and stopping to play with his hair. Clark sighed contentedly.

Lana watched Clark in their silence. She was studying his face like she did from time to time, but his hand on her legs was very distracting. Little did Clark know that this move of his always drove Lana absolutely crazy. She was sure it was something he just did absentmindedly since they’d established their comfort with physical contact, but that just made it even hotter. Lana knew she was the more physical one, liking to touch because she liked to be touched, so it was nice when Clark initiated that on his own. Any and all contact carried an emotional element for her, and this one came with a relaxed kind of bliss. At least, that’s what it had been for years. More recently though, it had carried a little extra intensity and she was feeling it now.

Clark’s hands were strong, and she could feel it even in his soft touches. Every time he would move upward her stomach would clench with the effort of making sure she didn’t squirm in his lap.

“That’s distracting.”

Clark’s voice snapped Lana out of her mounting excitement. Blinking, she registered what he said. _You don’t fucking say, buddy!_ she thought in response. Out loud, she gave a different one. “What’s distracting?”

“Your hand. The way you touch me.” Lana continued playing with his hair, spurred on by his words. Clark closed his eyes and sighed. He was sensitive to touch, and the lazy yet confident way Lana touched him made his heart pound in his chest. She had soft hands that were stronger than they looked, which was something Clark always found quite attractive. Feeling them on him like this was always enough to get him thinking some impure thoughts.

Lana snaked her hand up to close her fist around a wad of his wavy hair and pulled down slowly on a whim. Clark let his head roll back, opening his eyes and drifting them over to look Lana in the face. He raised an eyebrow. His face didn’t have much of an expression, but Lana saw his eyes hold a challenge.

A loud vibrating noise interrupted their moment, and Clark’s eyes shifted to find the source of the sound automatically. It was Lana’s phone, whose screen had just lit up with a notification. Lana had set it on top of her laptop earlier, and Clark could see it clearly from where he was sitting. “You’ve got an email,” he said.

Lana blinked, coming out of their moment much slower than he had. “Really? It’s late, even for school emails.”

She leaned over and snatched up her phone. Both of them were silent for a moment before Lana spoke again. “Holy shit,” she whispered with unfocused eyes. “Holy shit!”

“What? What is it?” asked Clark.

Lana’s blank face changed to one of pure joy and excitement with a big, bright smile as she thrusted her phone in his face. He took it from her and read it three times all the way through at super speed. It was an acceptance letter, right there in plain text: Lana was chosen to be part of a small group of graduates that were to be mentored and groomed for the industry as they contributed to important projects. Clark marveled at the coincidence; they’d just talked about this earlier.

“You got into the LuthorCorp Fellowship,” he breathed with wide eyes, a lopsided smile growing on his face.

Lana was still grinning from ear to ear, practically buzzing. “I got into the LuthorCorp Fellowship! I got in!”

“You got in!” Clark laughed. Lana curled herself inward and lurched forward, tackling him in a huge, crushing hug. The movement was awkward in such a small space since they were so close together, resulting in Lana straddling his lap. He hugged her back and whispered in her ear, “I’m so proud of you.”

Lana pulled back and looked at him, her arms still around his neck. It was just five words, but they’d sent her spiraling in a whirlwind of emotion. To her it was silly to be so affected by something so simple. And yet, hearing Clark say what she’d been longing to hear from others but hadn’t was almost more than she could handle. She didn’t trust herself to respond with her words, so she kissed him deeply, putting as much as she could into the display of affection. Clark didn’t complain. He kissed her just as intensely and held her tighter to him. 

His heart swelled and his body buzzed with the same burst of happiness he always got when they kissed. It was something on a level of its own, and he knew he’d never tire of it.

At first the kiss was all warm emotion, but they soon found that neither of them could stop. It was instinctual. They ebbed and flowed like a rising tide. Little by little they created a bit more distance, letting their hands take advantage and roam.

Lana backed up off of him to settle herself even closer and mashed her lips to his again, surging forward to keep her body in contact with his. She could feel his arms wrapping around her waist, sparking a deeper, hungrier kiss than they’d ever had. Her fingers dug into him and she swallowed a groan of his at the touch. Lana whimpered at the sound, sliding her hands up to hold his face. The two of them were breathless, kissing and holding each other like each was the other’s only source of air. Clark’s hands squeezed around her hips, and she couldn’t stop the moan that forced its way out of her throat. Lana grinded against him, feeling his now noticeable hardness through his jeans and the wetness forming between her own legs. The sound of Clark’s ragged breaths mixed with hers sent her spiraling. Clark raked his hands over her thighs and then gripped them forcefully, and she just about lost it.

Clark couldn’t think. From the moment their lips met, he was dizzy with everything Lana. He could hear both their hearts pounding. The feel of her hips grinding in his lap was otherworldly. There was a time when the thought of being like this with Lana was beyond his wildest dreams, but the taste of her tongue and the strength of her hands told him that it was real. The small sounds that came up from the back of her throat elicited some of his own.

Clark slipped his hands under her thighs and lifted her, standing up and breaking the kiss. He blinked to get his bearings, but Lana immediately wrapped her legs around his waist and started kissing down his jaw and along his neck. Before he could completely lose focus, he moved quickly, gliding to Lana’s bedroom in a blur. She didn’t seem to notice, too busy trying to devour him to pay attention to anything else. Instead, she found his lips again and kissed him hard, alternating between biting and sucking on his lips with her own. Her arms were tight around his neck, draped downward with her nails digging into his back. They both were panting now, clinging to each other as if trying to melt into one.

Lana lowered her legs and finally broke this kiss, chest heaving as she stood less than a foot away from her best friend with her back to her bed. Clark saw her glazed eyes refocus, darting around the room. Lana looked back up and gave him a devilish grin.

“Sneaky,” she huffed in almost a whisper, her voice wrapped with the edge of arousal. She grabbed Clark by his shirt and pulled, turning both of them around so that they switched positions. Clark moved to bring her closer again, but she pushed him back to stop his advance and instead lifted his t-shirt. In seconds, it was on the floor. Lana’s eyes glided over every inch of his bare torso, and an audible sigh escaped her lips. She was already wet for him, but at this rate she thought she’d soak her leggings.

He was perfect to her, chiseled and defined as all hell, but not overly ripped and bulging. There was some hair on his chest and just above his waist line, but the rest of him was bare. She studied the freckles and beauty marks on his skin with the light from the hallway and smiled. Lana almost lost herself in awe until her eyes settled upon his abs, which immediately gave her the urge to lick him. They were beautiful and just slightly asymmetrical; Lana doubted she would have realized had she not been this close to him. She raked her hands over them, licking her lips. She was grateful that Clark had forgone his shoes and button-down earlier, because any type of clothing would be a complete hindrance. The less, the better. Her brown eyes found his again, and the dark blue held a hunger she’d never seen in them before. Lana wanted to see how far she could take him.

Pressing against him, she dragged her hand down over his skin to the top of his pants. Though Clark had been quite physical minutes before, now he stood almost frozen. Lana watched him watch her, emboldened with each passing second. Her hands made quick work of his belt, and with a quick tug she’d taken it off and tossed it onto the floor to keep his shirt company. Next was her own t-shirt. The sports bra she wore left her showing ample cleavage and exposed midriff, flaunting a flat stomach with just a hint of abs. She’d worked a ton to get past her self-consciousness, both mentally and physically, and now took pleasure at putting herself on display. Clark seemed to appreciate it too, since his eyes immediately caressed her form when she’d stripped, lingering on her breasts, muscles, and the swell of her hips.

Lana slipped forward to unbutton Clark’s jeans when he finally moved again. His hands came to catch her wrists, and before Lana could give him a look of confusion he turned her around to face away from him. Clark knelt and pulled at her leggings, sliding them over her hips and down her legs so she could step out of them. He ran his hands over her bare legs, reveling in the smoothness of her skin while moving to kiss and lick the small of her back and around her hips.

Lana thrust back into him and squeezed her thighs together. Her mind reeled at the sensations. Yep, she was definitely soaked now. Clark turned her around again and, still on his knees, began giving the same treatment as before. Lana felt his tongue nip at the skin just above her panties and her hips bucked while an involuntary moan hit the air.

“Clark,” she gasped. Her skin was humming. And as much as she was loving every second of his teasing, she needed to have him. Now.

She pulled him upward and pushed against his chest. “Pants off, please,” she said in a commanding tone.

Clark raised an eyebrow, but complied. Now standing in only his boxers, he pulled her forward to kiss her again. Lana relished the feel of being pressed against his body, and reached between them to feel how hard he was. It was like holding steel, and she hummed appreciatively at the contact. She rubbed him back and forth through the material, drawing a grunt from Clark that rumbled deep in his chest. The sound drove her crazy, and she immediately broke the kiss and dropped to her knees.

Lana practically tore his boxers off of him and then took him into her mouth. Clark’s response was immediate, a low sigh flowing through his lips. She dragged her hands over his thighs and bobbed her head forward and back, taking more and more of him until he reached the back of her throat. She wrapped her lips around his cock and slowly pulled back to the tip, dragging her tongue underneath him. Her eyes had been closed, savoring the feel of him in her mouth, but she opened them to look up at him. At first his were closed too, his forehead creased with the effort of controlling his breathing. Soon they were open, looking down at her as she teased him with her tongue.

“You’re good at that,” he panted.

Lana sucked him in again for a few more strokes and then came up off him. She replaced her mouth with her hand and stroked him with a painstaking slowness. Her head tilted a bit and her trademark smirk reappeared on her face. There were very few things Lana loved more than having someone fall prey and lose control at the attention of her mouth and tongue. It was so erotic, and seeing Clark struggle to keep his composure was the biggest turn on. She leaned back in, talking almost to the appendage in front of her as much as the man to which it was connected.

“Oh, so you like that, huh?” Lana engulfed him with her mouth again, trying one last time to take all of him into her throat, but to no avail. She groaned in both frustration and admiration, and used a hand to stroke the bottom of his shaft while she licked and sucked the top. Lana hadn’t been with too many guys, but she’d always been able to take their entire length into her mouth. Clark wasn’t unusually long, but definitely proportionate to the size of the rest of him and thicker than she would’ve guessed. The feel of him rocking his hips to get him further into her mouth made her hornier than she’d ever been, and she reached between her own legs to touch herself. Her panties were sticking to her, and she had to peel the fabric away to get direct contact. Her fingertips glided across her folds, coating themselves in her wetness before attacking her clit. She built up a fast rhythm working both of them vigorously, moaning around her best friend’s cock.

Clark was in a state of bliss, unable to control the low grunts and moans rumbling in his chest. Lana’s mouth was too good on him, and he found himself slipping a hand into her hair and thrusting his hips in excitement. He loved the little noises she made around him and the flawless way she both sucked and stroked him had his body swimming with pleasure. When he was younger he’d been extremely worried about losing control of his powers during intimate moments, but in the past few years he’d eased himself into more and more practice, so he wasn’t too worried. But now, panting and at the mercy of his best friend’s affections, he knew it would take much more effort than usual to control himself.

Clark reached down to gently ease her off of his erection. His body screamed against that action and definitely wanted Lana to continue, but Clark had other things on his mind. Lana whimpered defiantly and leaned back into him. Clark guided her up to her feet and kissed her quickly before moving closer to the bed. In the haze of arousal he misjudged his position and ended up slamming his knee into the side of the bed in a bout of clumsiness. Instead of bouncing off like it would for anybody else, his knee kept surging forward, which caused the entire bed to shift left several inches.

Lana, wiping her mouth, was unable to hold back her laughter and snorted loudly. “Smooth.”

Clark rolled his eyes amusingly and pulled her to him, slipping an arm around her back to hold her in place. His other hand stroked the skin of her stomach and traveled further down to settle over the wet spot of her panties, just over her clit. He moved his fingers back and forth lightly in a lazy rhythm. Lana stiffened and shuddered at his touch.

“What was that?” he asked sweetly, looking at her face. “You’ll have to speak up, Lana.”

The only sound Lana made was a high-pitched mewling noise through tightly pursed lips. Her eyes were locked to his as she grinded on his hand. The sudden change in his demeanor and his hand suddenly at her center was making her skin vibrate. She had goosebumps everywhere, and she could feel that familiar tension start to build inside her.

Clark took pleasure in Lana’s reactions to his movements, savoring every little whimper and change in expression. Her forehead was creased in concentration and her lips were parted, letting short quick breaths out between them as she struggled to remember to breathe. The feel of her losing control in his hold spurred him on and he quickened the pace of his ministrations, keeping the same rhythm. Lana’s eyes squeezed shut and a loud cry escaped her lips as she doubled over against him, grinding harder on his hand. She kissed and licked his chest between moans, clawing at his arms all the while. Feeling obstructed, Clark moved the part of Lana’s underwear that was covering the source of her wetness so he could get to it directly. Upon contact with her clit she bit his chest hard and bucked, her breath catching.

“ _Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop_ ,” she whispered into him.

Clark knew better than to break the rhythm of his fingers, but he still wanted to give her something a bit more. “Mind if I try something?”

“You…can do anything…you want to me,” Lana huffed between deep breaths and strangled moans. Her eyes were tightly shut and her face was scrunched up focusing on the sensations between her legs.

Clark continued to move his fingers over her clit as he had been, but this time he started to softly vibrate his hand within the movement at a steady pace. He’d never tried this with anyone else and was hoping for a good response, but he didn’t have to wait long. Lana reacted immediately, her eyes flying wide open as she started to feel the vibrations on her clit. She tightened her grip on him, and as her browns caught his blues again she exploded on his fingers.

She arched into him and moaned louder than she had until then, muffled by her burying her face in his bare chest. Lana lost track of everything except the pleasure racking her body and the fireworks detonating behind her eyes. Even her own cries of ecstasy seemed to be coming from somewhere else. Her hips bucked against Clark and she rode out her orgasm on his hand, finally coming down after what seemed like forever on a high. She leaned against him, panting, and he held her close.

Clark chuckled softly as Lana’s breathing evened out. She mumbled something against his chest, but since he was more focused on holding her upright, he didn’t hear.

“What’d you say?”

Lana backed up a bit and looked up at him with lidded eyes and a piercing stare. “I said I want you on your back.”

She moved him and he followed at her touch, turning and walking backward until his legs hit the end of the bed. He sat and scooted back before lying down, never breaking eye contact as Lana slipped her fingers in the waist of her panties and pushed to let them drop down to the floor. Then she stalked forward and climbed on top of him. The smile on her lips grew into a lopsided grin as she straddled him and placed her hands on his chest. Finally, she was no longer impeded. 

With a flick of her head she whipped the hair out of her face and over her shoulder, leaning back to fully sit on his lap. Her butt was nestled against his hardness and she wiggled her hips playfully while her hands moved to peel off her sports bra. She sighed contentedly at the freedom, now in full birthday suit. Clark couldn’t help but take one of her breasts in his hand and play with her nipple. She bit her lip and sighed contentedly.

“I know you like to tease, Clark, but I’m way past that,” she whispered, and lowered herself onto him in one full motion. The both of them groaned and tensed in response, reveling in the completion of their physical union. She took him all the way down to the hilt, and ground her clit onto him with a roll of her hips. “ _Fuck_ yeah,” she breathed.

Clark lifted his hips to meet her movements, causing Lana to lean forward and dig her nails into him to steady herself. They moved in unison, Lana grinding and Clark thrusting, slowly losing themselves in each other and working up to a smoldering frenzy. Clark’s hands roamed her body, gripping and teasing all the way as Lana started to move up and back while rolling her hips. Her eyes were shut in concentration and her lips parted with each breathy moan. Clark thrusted upward to match her pace, hard and steady, bouncing her on top of him every time she came down to bury him inside her. It felt exquisite, and he couldn’t keep the sounds of his pleasure to himself any more than she could.

“You feel amazing,” he breathed, looking up at her. Lana’s only response was a low groan before dropping down over him and crashing her lips to his again. She kissed him hungrily, mewling into the kiss with soft high-pitched squeals at Clark’s new angle of entry. He pumped into her harder, and the two of them seemed to blend into one long needy moan.

They were as close as they could manage, pressed flushed against each other, and Lana finally opened her eyes with her forehead resting against Clark’s. She found him looking back at her, and her arousal-induced frenzy subsided into extreme contentment. He seemed to feel it too, and this time their kiss was slower, but more powerful. It wasn’t as ravenous and consuming as before, but somehow it was more intense. Clark continued to thrust into her and she continued to meet him, but the pace was much less hurried. Both of them were teetering on the edge of release, lost in the limbo between fucking and making love.

As if with one mind, they both rolled so that Lana was now on her back. Never sacrificing eye or skin contact, the two of them moved together again, Clark plunging into her with long deep strokes and Lana moving her hips to meet him as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her breaths came in deep gasps and she gripped his shoulders. Lana was locked there with him, unable to concentrate on anything except the blue of his eyes and the feeling of him thrusting into her. She could feel him tense more and more as she gripped him. She wanted his release just as badly as she needed her own.

A low, ragged growl escaped Clark’s lips. It was barely audible, but with their closeness the sound was just enough to send Lana over the edge. Her orgasm was unexpected in its intensity, and she found she couldn’t keep her eyes on his any longer. Her arms locked around his neck and her entire body arched as her lips parted in a silent scream. Clark kept thrusting in deep and moaning into her neck, peppering her skin with soft licks and kisses. She was vaguely aware of a soft ripping sound, but in no state of mind to care about what caused it.

She eventually came back to earth with her chest heaving in exhaustion. Clark had slowed his movements to almost a halt, burying himself deep inside her and grinding his hips instead of thrusting in and out. The friction on her clit was almost too much for Lana, but she reveled in the shocks of pleasure that came with it. Clark held her tight in his arms as he breathed deeply, slowing his own breathing while kissing and licking along her chest. She cooed as he gave lazy attention to her nipples. Lana could feel herself still quivering around his cock, and could feel how hard he still was. 

That ripping sound filled the air again, and this time she searched for the source. Clark’s hand was bunched in a fist around a small portion of the sheets, tearing at the fabric in his haze. Lana giggled softly and caressed his head, guiding him even closer to her chest. She doubted he even noticed what he was doing. After a minute of enjoying the attention to her breasts, she tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

“Lie down.”

Clark looked at her with a preoccupied expression, and then slowly complied. He slipped out of her, getting a short gasp from his best friend, and rolled over. Lana immediately followed to hover over him and initiate a kiss. It was becoming second nature for her now. She slipped a hand around him, still hard as steel and slick with her juices, and stroked up and down in controlled, deliberate motions. Her lips and tongue dragged their way down his body, savoring the taste of his skin.

Clark sighed at the attention. “That feels really good.” 

Lana hummed and kissed him lovingly. “This’ll feel even better,” she said with a rough softness. “Out of this world, in fact.” Lowering herself down to meet her hand, she took him into her mouth again. She went as far as she could and bobbed up and down at a slow pace, stroking him with her hand every time she came up. She licked the underside of his shaft as her lips closed tightly around him, humming contentedly.

Clark let out a low laugh. “I would have thought alien puns were beneath you, La- _ohh_.”

Lana moaned around him and dipped her head to suck him farther in a few times. Then she rose up off him. 

“Right now, the only thing beneath me is you,” she said, “and that’s exactly how I want it.” She went back to work on his cock.

Clark was more relaxed now than he had been all night. He enjoyed Lana’s attention for obvious reasons, but also for the reprieve from maintaining self-control. His eyes drifted closed and he settled into the sensations, small moans and grunts flowing freely. Lana’s ministrations were steady but unhurried, and he was immensely grateful to enjoy it. After a couple of minutes, he got an idea.

“I want to taste you,” he breathed. Lana hummed around his cock, sucking more intensely. He wasn’t sure if she heard, but eventually she answered.

“I’m not done yet, babe,” smiled Lana. 

“You don’t have to be.”

Lana’s eyes squinted and then widened in realization. With more enthusiasm than Clark had expected, she crawled back up to him halfway and then turned her body so that she was straddled over his face. Lana didn’t wait for Clark to move, but instead took him back into her mouth.

Clark pulled her hips down and nested between her legs. His tongue slipped out and licked her folds, slowly and relaxed, and he felt Lana settle deeper onto his face. Emboldened, Clark went for it again. This time, he used his tongue more quickly and roughly than before. The effect was immediate, and Lana’s moans around his cock grew steadily in intensity, sending exquisite vibrations through him. She moved rhythmically on top of him, digging her nails into his thighs. Clark couldn’t stop himself from moving his hips and thrusting into her mouth. All he could do was continue licking her sweetness and succumb to the thick haze of arousal that refused to allow him to think.

Clark’s hands roamed over Lana’s thighs. She was a force of nature on top of him. The way her muscles rolled and clenched as she rode his face was more beautiful than anything else in the moment, and he squeezed them in appreciation. Lana picked up her pace, sucking and licking him with a longing he could feel with his whole body. Clark squeezed his eyes shut and let out a long, drawn out moan. Lana whimpered over him in response. 

Clark licked and sucked at her clit, softly but more focused while keeping her held in place with his hands. Her entire lower body twitched violently in short spasms, and she rose up off his cock with a loud pop. 

“ _Oh my fucking-yeah, keep doing that, keep doing that, keep....FUCK_!”

It didn’t take long for the mounting tension inside her to snap like a band, sending pulse after pulse rippling through her as her orgasm bloomed. Lana did nothing at all to stop herself from moaning and crying out at whatever volume her body forced out of her-she was all pleasure from the deepest part of her to the tips of her toes and fingers. Her back stretched and arched as she leaned forward on her hands, gripping the man beneath her as tightly as she ever had. Nails dug into hard muscle. Lana’s hair fell over part of her face, chest heaving with exertion. Her hips undulated with the flow of her climax until she slowly came back down to reality. 

She dropped onto his lower half, panting and gasping with deep breaths as she came to rest her forehead on his leg. Lana hummed and kissed here and there, lazily drifting over his skin. Clark eventually stopped his loving assault between her legs and instead took to gliding his fingertips over her clit in slow motions. A deep shudder permeated Lana, and she leaned away from him with a groan.

“Wait, wait...it’s too- _nnh_. Baby, it’s too much,” Lana whined. Clark took his hand away with a small chuckle. 

Refusing to curb his attention altogether, Clark let his hands roam all over the woman on top of him while he gave her thighs the kisses they deserved. He loved on her without any real intention, just casually reveling in the moment. After a few minutes, Lana began to stir. 

Her body was exhausted. Lana could feel her face and chest giving off heat, flushed as they were. She smiled to herself. Getting her wits about her again, she entertained the passing thoughts on her sex life. When was the last time she came that hard? She couldn’t remember. It definitely wasn’t with a guy. It had to be one of those nights where she was horny out of her mind and decided to take care of herself a few times in a row. Probably thinking about Clark. Orgasms were fucking great. Why didn’t she do that more often?

Speaking of, it was his turn. Not to be outdone, Lana was determined to blow his mind (and cock), rock his world, and make him cum. It was hard to believe he hadn’t already. She was going to give her handsome alien something to remember.

Lana made an about-face, and straddled him again. His body was free of tension and his eyes were closed amid a look of contentment. Clark’s penis, which was quickly becoming her favorite part of him, had softened a bit in his relaxed state, but came to stand at attention once again when she started to stroke him. A small hum rumbled in his throat. Lana moved up and sank slowly and deliberately onto his cock as she had before. A soft moan escaped her lips. Clark’s eyes floated open.

Before he could do anything, Lana put a hand on his chest. Smiling sweetly, she rose up his length and eased back down again. “Just lay back and relax. I want you to enjoy this.”

Lana welcomed the soft touches he initiated in response, riding him with no rush. She bit her lip and slowed her breaths, trying not to get too worked up on him again. This was about his pleasure, not her own. Still, she couldn’t resist caressing and pinching her nipples.

The sounds coming from the man under her got more and more defined as the minutes ticked on, and Lana cherished all of it. She could see the ripple in his abs as she continued to grind on top of him. Meeting his eyes, she felt the intensity of their coupling building up to something powerful. Lana lowered herself down to kiss him, and he returned it passionately in kind. Her hips rolled on their own, forgoing the depth of her reverse strokes in favor of increasing the friction between them. She moved against him harder, and his moans became more desperate. It was gorgeous. Lana breathed slowly and deeply, focusing her movements to get every sound she could out of him.

“Lana..” he panted, grabbing her hips. Her lips twitched in a small smile. She loved the way he said her name. “ _Mmh_...I’m really close.”

Lana kissed him deeply once more and rose up off him to settle back down between his legs. She grabbed his hardness and flicked her tongue over the tip. The whole night, she’d been so preoccupied in her frenzy to fuck and get fucked senseless that she hadn’t taken the time to really appreciate his cock. So she did now, appreciating how gorgeous it looked and how good it felt in her mouth. A happy moan thrummed in her chest as she licked him again. “Give it to me.”

She went down on him again, but this time deliberately and with purpose. His pants and moans came in time with the short thrusting of his hips, and his fingers came to tangle themselves in her hair. It wasn’t long until Lana’s skilled movements sent him careening into an abyss of pleasure.

Lana heard her best friend’s gasps and felt him swell on her lips. She kept on with renewed fervor, milking him for everything he could take. She let him ride it out in her mouth and felt the evidence of his pleasure splash against her tongue and the back of her throat. It was completely expected yet it still surprised her in its intensity. Lana moaned around him, immediately deciding that she loved it and took it all down her throat. 

Coming off the highs of her own orgasms and taking the time to focus on Clark, she had a chance to think – at least in a basic sense. She found that even though she’d enjoyed sex with other men, she’d never gotten this kind of contentment from pleasuring someone else. It always felt like something she should do, but not something she ever felt the need to do. With Clark, the drive to make him feel amazing possessed her and didn’t let her go. She’d known she would love doing it, and she was right.

Lana made her way back to his face and soon she was lying fully on top of him, peppering his chest and neck with kisses and giggling in earnest. She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t stop.

“What’s so funny?” Clark asked with a lopsided smile. He was totally relaxed now, body almost limp. It took a little while for Lana to calm down enough to answer.

“Sorry-sorry, it’s just…this was the last thing I expected to happen when you came over. Hoped, maybe, but never really expected,” she said. Her head flopped down onto his chest and she relaxed completely on top of him. “Gosh, that was so much better than what I expected.”

Clark’s chest vibrated with laughter. “Well that’s good to hear.”

“Mmhmm,” Lana said with a smile, nuzzling into him. “I’m going to have fun with that vibrating thing you can do. Not all the time, mind you, but we’re definitely doing that again.”

Clark was pleasantly surprised. Not at Lana’s candor per se, but at her demeanor. She was hardly ever one to be giddy or offer positive comments so easily. He decided he liked this side of her. Clark wrapped his arms around the redhead and kissed the top of her head. His fingertips made swirling designs on her skin.

“Congratulations on the acceptance letter,” said Clark. 

Lana chuckled, further cuddling into him. “Thanks, babe.”


	8. How Do You Be You Without Being You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An important trip to the Fortress, with company this time.

_ <What were you doing on Krypton, Daxamite?> _ Faora drawled with a healthy amount of boredom, peering through the metal bars of the double layered gate of the holding cell. Her voice was muffled as it always was in the Phantom Zone, but communication was not impossible. The prisoner gave a look of annoyed resignation. He turned to face her almost lazily, a passive look on his face.

_ <Hiding.> _

An ugly snorting sound came from behind Faora. Jax had walked up to stand at her left several feet away.

 _ <Didn’t do that great a job, then, did you?> _ he said.

 _ <I could say the same for you and your rebellion,> _ the Daxamite retorted. Jax’s face turned hard as stone. The prisoner smiled, looking at both armored Kryptonians and then at the space between them. They seemed to unconsciously fall in line that way. _ <Where is your general?> _

_ <That is not your concern,> _ responded Faora. < _Why were you hiding? > _

_ <What does it matter to you?> _

_ <Answer the question, _taiium,> snarled Jax.

The Daxamite glared at the large Kryptonian. He was not fond of that word. _Taiium_ meant “foreigner” or “stranger,” and even though it wasn’t an insult per se, it was certainly never used as a term of endearment on Krypton. _ <My name is Dev-Em.> _

_ <I am Faora Hu-Ul, and you will answer my question.> _

Dev locked eyes with Faora. After a few seconds, he shrugged. _ <I slaughtered one of the royal families of Daxam to end their unjust rule. Not so different from you, it seems.> _

Faora cocked her head thoughtfully, scrutinizing him. Jax, characteristically, couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

 _ <You are nothing like us,> _ he said, puffing his chest and raising his chin. _ <A Daxamite could never measure up.> _

Faora’s forehead creased. Dev rolled his eyes.

 _ <I suppose you’re right,> _ conceded Dev. _ <I doubt I’d ever measure up to the level of imbecility one would need to blow up an inhabited moon.> _

Jax seemed to forget the cell bars and rushed forward in anger. He stopped suddenly, or rather, was stopped. Faora had moved with the speed of a trained warrior and tugged him back to shove him behind her. Jax’s furious gaze turned to her.

 _ <Unfortunately,> _ said Faora, staring back, _ <Dev-Em is correct. You were ordered to rally Wegthor to our cause, not destroy it. I tolerate your foolishness at Zod’s request, but destruction of that magnitude could have attracted the Green Lantern Corps. Now if you cannot find the control necessary to hold your tongue and manage your actions, you will be forced to leave this interrogation.> _

Jax grunted and stormed off. Faora’s jaw clenched in annoyance, which had become an ongoing occurrence ever since Jax had been promoted. She’d expressed to Zod on multiple occasions her disdain for Jax’s presence, always at a loss when trying to enumerate his usefulness. Eventually she realized that Zod kept Jax around as extra muscle to do the grunt work so she would never have to. Dru-Zod was not one for sentiment, but he showed that he cared for her in less explicit ways. Faora appreciated it immensely, yet she still felt he could have picked someone better than Jax.

Faora turned back to Dev. He wore a bored but amiable expression, as if the reality of being a prisoner on a Kryptonian warship was akin to listening to an old history lesson.

 _ <How did you get out of your cells?> _ Dev asked. _ <I assume your general is also. Well, as free as we can be in this place.> _

The Daxamite grimaced disdainfully. Faora did not answer him.

 _ <Why do you put up with that lout?> _ he continued, back with his tone of mild curiosity. Faora took a controlled breath and ignored the second question.

 _ <We do not plan to be here for much longer. My general does not want to keep you here when we escape, but you are of no use to us. We are better than our oppressors, so we will not kill you or hold you prisoner if you pose no threat. As of right now, you don’t.> _ Dev raised an eyebrow. She continued. _ <You are to be released and immediately escorted to the scout ships where you will leave and go about enjoying your reacquaintance with freedom.> _

_< This is generous, considering your reputation,>_ said Dev, walking toward the gate of his cell. _< Your ruthlessness knows no bounds, matched only by your beauty, Faora Hu-Ul. Why am I to believe that you are better than anyone else of Krypton’s elite? Both the highest class and the dregs of society looked upon me with disdain at my sentencing, all because I committed the crime of being a Daxamite. Forgive_ _me if I am skeptical, even if you do somehow manage to escape the Phantom Zone. >_

Faora pursed her lips. _ <The general and I judge by strength of character, not by heritage. I…apologize for my partner’s lack of restraint.> _

Dev cocked his head, peering at the lieutenant with lidded eyes. _ <Would you mind if I killed him upon our release?> _ he asked with a lilt in his voice, as if deciding what to have for dinner.

If the question surprised Faora, she did not show it. She stared passively and took longer to answer than Dev had expected she would.

_ <My general would mind, so if you made any attempts on his life I am obligated to kill you.> _

_ <Even if my intention is to take his place?> _

Faora froze for a fraction of a second. _ <What reason have you for this?> _ she asked warily. This interrogation was not going as expected at all. Faora was normally the most effective at steering the conversation where she wanted to go, but it seemed her stay in the Phantom Zone had left her more than rusty.

_ <I have no intention of heading back to Daxam or of roaming the galaxies, but I do want freedom. This seems as a good a choice as any.> _

Faora felt uneasy. She knew better than to take a stranger at his word, but any reason the Daxamite had to lie had not yet presented itself. Moreover, Zod had not given her details regarding the orchestrator of their escape. She was not particularly fond of her current lack of knowledge. As much as she hated Jax, bringing Dev into the fold had the potential to be much more dangerous. And yet…

_ <Killing Jax is out of the question. However, I will relay your proposal to General Zod. Until his decision has been made, you will remain here even if we leave the Phantom Zone before then.> _

Faora turned to walk down the corridor, but before she was out of earshot Dev called to her again. She stopped to listen.

_ <This ship was damaged during the rebellion before our imprisonment, yes? Tell your general that I would be happy to repairs-specifically to your phantom drive. If I am granted a place among you, of course.> _

Faora pursed her lips tensely. Damn him. He definitely knew a lot more than he let on. Their imprisonment in individual cells stymied the potential of using the ship's phantom drive to escape the Zone, but it wouldn't have mattered. It _was_ damaged. A functional drive would be optimal in their future endeavors, and Dev was apparently clever enough to pay attention to the potential for leverage. Faora decided to let her general deal with him, and left the corridor without another word.

**************************

The last week of April saw Clark and Martha finally move from the Kent farm to an apartment in Keystone City. Martha had thought that Clark would be sad about the move since that was the only home he’d known, but to her he seemed really excited at the prospect of living in a new place – a city, no less. He’d come early one morning, and upon the news that the sale of the farm to Lana’s extended family had been finalized he’d immediately packed half the house at super speed.

They’d gone through the preparations little by little long before then, so it wasn’t much of a hassle. Clark hadn’t gone with Martha a few weeks before to sign the agreement for their new place, but he’d dropped by before that to see it for himself in the middle of the night. He loved the living room's big windows, and even though it was a little pricey they’d still gotten it for a steal. 

Martha, having been retired for a few years now, had more time on her hands than she knew what to do with. Part of her decision to move to the city was a desire to cross things off her bucket list, because everything new and interesting was far away from you when you live in a rural town most of your life. In places like Keystone City, you could walk two blocks and stumble into an experience that could change your life. She loved the thought of that.

Even though Clark technically lived there too, it was mostly Martha’s place. It was small, despite the spaciousness of the main rooms, and utilitarian, exactly what she needed. Clark stayed mostly at the Fortress and didn't have many possessions anyway, so everything he’d brought from Smallville was easily spread between there and Keystone City. He thought it important for him to continue to be on his own. In addition, he’d taken up blogging, transcription, and freelance writing heavily to earn money in his down time. It was slow going, but he was optimistic.

Visiting his mother would never be a problem, and now it had the added benefit of being even closer to Lana than it had been before. The condo was in the second neighborhood from the eastern edge of Keystone City, which was a ten minute drive from the bridge into Central City. Lana could easily come visit too now if she was so inclined. Given the centralization of the place, Clark had made sure to have Kelex fashion a homing crystal for their place in Keystone so he wouldn’t have to fly all the way back from the Fortress.

It had been a few weeks since Clark talked to Lana, expressing his mild confusion at the lack of definition regarding the new stages of their relationship (and the sex, since they had spent most of her spring break tiring each other out). Lana had seemed almost relieved. They established that they were both comfortable with how their relationship was progressing and that the basis of it was that they both wanted and needed to be in each other’s lives. The specifics weren’t as important as the certainty of how they felt about each other. However, since they were both comfortable with the label and the commitment to exclusivity, they were now officially boyfriend and girlfriend.

Lana’s graduation had been a quiet and mildly awkward affair. Clark and Martha attended, of course, as did Lana’s parents. They were all proud of her and after all the time she’d spent with the Kents during high school it wasn’t out of the ordinary for them to be present. Nonetheless, there was still some tension. Though the two Kents were cordial, Martha in particular was not overly fond of them. She was aware of Thomas’s problems and Carol’s tendencies to make excuses for him, and nothing so far had led Martha to believe there had been any kind of improvement. After the ceremony Lana had actually engaged more with Clark and Martha than she did her parents, though she had talked with them separately when they’d first arrived. Thomas and Carol were undoubtedly uncomfortable (if not bitter) with that fact, but Martha couldn’t manage to feel sympathetic since Lana had been coming to the Kent farm more and more often over the years as she grew up. Since the specifics technically weren’t her business, though, Martha made sure to keep her mouth shut and be as amiable as Clark.

Though a few of the more important aspects of his life had changed, one thing in Clark’s life remained constant – his time at the Fortress. He continued training with Kelex, though he'd eased off on the volume. Instead of the physical he began to focus on the logistics of coming out to the world as an alien being. He’d inevitably be in the spotlight in some form, and the prospect of bringing the people he cared about into that new orbit was terrifyingly worrisome. He didn’t want Martha or Lana (or anyone else who would get to know him, for that matter) to be affected by the prejudice and uncertainty that would surely follow. When running this by Lana, she’d given him a thought-provoking consideration. She’d said: how do you be you without being you?

The last Friday in May, Clark had used the Zeta teleporter to take Lana and Martha up to the Fortress. They were both excited to see what Clark had told them so much about, and to meet Kelex. The whole place was thermo-regulated, so despite being in the Arctic the two ladies didn’t have to worry about staying warm in light clothing.

Clark considered himself immensely lucky to have a space totally his own that he did not have to pay for. He was appreciative of his biological father’s foresight not just with saving his life, as he now knew, but with making said life more convenient. Granted, if someone with his abilities had less of a moral compass they could easily find ways to obtain their basic needs without paying for them, but even with his desire to live by the law he didn’t have much to worry about. Given his body’s ability to absorb the sun’s radiation as sustenance, he didn’t need to eat much, or even at all. Food and shelter were taken care of, so there wasn’t much else in his life for which he needed money. What a privilege that was.

Clark went straight to the console while the other two split up and explored the rest of the Fortress. Admittedly there wasn’t much else to see besides the crystal furniture, training room, and some of Clark’s belongings, but he let them roam. The middle clearing still had much open space left since Clark and Kelex hadn’t really needed much space other than for training, but he had a feeling that as time went on he’d fill that space and then some.

“Kelex, run diagnostics and security sweeps please.”

“ _Sure thing, Kal_ ,” came Kelex’s disembodied voice. Eventually Martha and Lana came to stand beside him at the console to watch.

“Your A.I. talks like a regular dude,” said Lana, running her eyes over the symbols on the console.

“Yeah,” Clark nodded. “The more we interact, the more fluid and colloquial his speech becomes. He was built by my father Jor-El and equipped with thousands of languages, but the Kryptonian language was used as a sort of template. Kryptonian language is formal in nature, so formal speech is Kelex’s default in every language. He learns to adapt with time, though.”

“No kidding,” said Martha, with an odd distant look in her eyes. “This is…advanced, Clark.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“So your other father, Jor-El,” said Lana, “built all of this?”

“ _I_ _n a manner of speaking,_ ” interjected Kelex, who was now in his android form. Lana hadn’t seen him walk over, and so was quite startled. Clark made formal introductions now that Kelex had established the illusion of being more present with a body. Kelex continued after shaking Lana’s and Martha’s hands (to incredulous giggles from the latter). “ _It was modeled after a very large structure on Krypton in an effort to preserve Kryptonian architecture. Jor-El devised it so that it would be attracted to this planet’s closest geomagnetic pole and terraform the surrounding area into structures reminiscent of the crystals native to Krypton in this specific orientation._ ”

Lana gave Clark an impressed look. “Sweet,” she said.

“Sure,” offered Martha in a high voice. “No big deal.”

Kelex made his way to the console and worked a few of the commands. _“Scans are complete, Kal. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing in the vicinity and cloaking is fully functional.”_

“Awesome. Thanks, Kelex.” Clark turned back to his two companions and took a deep breath. “Okay. I brought you two here to check this place out, but mostly because I wanted to talk about something really important with the both of you while having Kelex at my disposal.”

“Okay, shoot,” said Lana.

As much as Martha was reeling at the alien technology, her focus was on Lana and her son. She looked at the both of them, marveling at how similar yet different the dynamic was between the other two compared to how it had been. The way they talked and looked at each other was virtually the same as it had always been, but the way they moved around each other had changed drastically. It was like watching a binary star system. The two of them seemed to orbit around each other through a center space, and neither would ever get too far from the other.

“You know that I’ve been preparing to come out to the world. I realize that this will have a serious effect on the both of you and everyone who knows me even a little, so I’ve decided that I can’t let myself be known to the world as I am.”

“I don’t understand, Clark. You’re just giving up?” his mother asked. “That’s not like you.”

“No, Ma. I meant that when I do this, it won’t be Clark Kent that the world will see. It’ll have to be someone else.”

Lana followed with a raised eyebrow. “Who are you going to be?”

Clark evaded their gazes sheepishly. “I was thinking I’d just be Kal-El. You know, since it’s technically my name too. Nobody else knows that name so it won’t tie me back to anyone.”

“But some people’ll still know your face,” reasoned Lana. “And any official documents and old records that have a picture of you will still be out there. Not to mention there's still the very real possibility that government agencies will run facial recognition programs on you the second you out yourself.”

Martha looked at Lana with a wary expression and a raised eyebrow. Lana caught her eye.

“What?” she said. “I watch a lot of spy movies.”

“Kelex has that covered,” answered Clark. “He can access any and all digital databases, so I’ll give him altered pictures and descriptions and he’ll go in and change any official digital records. I won’t be able to do much about paper records like old yearbooks and stuff, but there really isn’t much else out there. Good thing I didn’t jump on the whole social media phase sprouting up now.”

“Yeah, your hindsight is 20-20,” said Lana. “But you can’t just replace pictures with ones that don’t look anything like you.”

Clark let out a small laugh. “I’m not. Realistically I can't be the only one who looks like me, so I've got no problem using a picture of myself. Except with a different hairstyle, different color eyes, and glasses.”

Lana gave him a look. “Glasses? Your big disguise is going to be glasses? You’re kidding, right? I mean, the average person isn't particularly observant when it comes to strangers, but...seriously?”

“That does seem a little ridiculous, honey,” Martha interjected with an apologetic look.

“It’s not just that. Anyone who comes across the pictures probably won’t know me so that’s not a problem, but I’ll actually be wearing glasses from now on. The few who would actually recognize me without them haven’t seen me in a while save for you two, so they’ll probably think my eyesight got worse with age just like everyone else. But what’s more is that I’ll be acting differently too. Non-assuming, not drawing attention to myself like always, but dialed up to eleven.”

“So that as Clark you don’t seem to change that much but as Kal-El you can be a totally different person,” said Martha, fully catching on. “Hiding in plain sight.”

“Exactly. I won’t have to hide all the parts of me that I have been anymore. And I don’t exactly plan on having too many photo ops either.”

Lana and Martha exchanged looks. There was an unspoken understanding between them; each of them would always support Clark’s important choices.

“If this is how you want to do it, I’m with you,” said Lana. Clark beamed in response. She could see his shoulders sag in relief. He must have been a lot more nervous than he’d let on.

“Me too, of course,” Martha said with a smile. “We can figure out the smaller stuff later as we go.”

“One thing, though,” continued Lana. She wore a pensive expression, pausing to gather her thoughts and then continue. “If you won’t be hiding your powers and will be using them to help people, then I think you should wear a uniform. Like all other types of service people do.”

“What, like the Army?” asked Clark with a guarded look. “Or the police? I don’t think that gives the best impression.”

“No, babe, that’s not what I mean,” said Lana softly, giving her boyfriend a patient look. “I was thinking something like a firefighter. Something that you wear every day that will come to make people feel protected, not scared.”

Clark nodded slowly, mulling it over. “What do you think, Ma?”

Martha looked around, surveying the space again and watching Kelex going through routine maintenance. She realized now that being in this Fortress and having this conversation would be a turning point in not just her life, but the lives of every single person on the planet. All of this was very real, and having this sneak peek let her know just how much change was about to bombard the world.

“Well,” she said, “you can’t change the world in just a t-shirt and jeans, now can you?”

Lana grinned and gave Clark an “I told you so” look. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “That settles it then.”

Clark immediately enlisted Kelex, Martha, and Lana to help with design. Practically all aspects of Kryptonian culture was archived, so he asked Kelex to bring up any and all types of uniforms worn on Krypton. Since part of Clark’s big decision was based on embracing his heritage, he wanted the bulk of the design to be Kryptonian. Martha particularly enjoyed the streamlined designs of the elected officials’ black uniforms, but Lana thought they needed more color. Lana pointed out the deep blue of the Science Guild uniforms. Clark wasn’t too fond of the bulkiness of most military uniforms, but liked the capes of the high ranking officers. Clark and Lana both liked the red from the uniforms of the Priests of Rao. Martha thought Clark should wear a symbol like most uniforms had.

After almost two hours, the three of them (and Kelex) came up with a composite design. The base template was a blue full-length bodysuit like the Science Guild uniforms. Broadly, across the chest, was the same symbol Jor-El had on his robes in the hologram – the symbol he now knew was for the House of El – emblazoned red with a yellow background. Boots and a cape modeled after those worn by lieutenants in the military were included, also red. A faded yellow band angled across the waist, giving the illusion of a belt.

Lana looked at Kelex’s projection of the finished design in awe. Of course, that meant she had tons of questions.

“Okay, this is totally awesome,” she said, “but one question. I know you seem to have the identity issue figured out but why don’t you just wear a mask? Seems like a no-brainer here, babe.”

Clark looked at her softly but shook his head. “I thought about that too. But I don’t want anyone to think I’m hiding. I want to be someone people can trust.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” said Martha, staring at the hologram of the suit’s design. Lana looked at both of them and sighed worriedly. She commended her boyfriend for his ideology and character, but still surmised it was a more dangerous option.

“Kelex?” Lana said tentatively, changing the subject. “Kryptonian materials aren’t exactly found on Earth, are they?”

“ _A significant portion are, but many are not_ ,” responded Kelex. He was now flying around as the other, smaller helper robot.

“Will you be able to make it authentically Kryptonian, or will you have to use materials from here?”

“ _I could use only Earth materials, but it would not be nearly as flexible or durable as it would be if I used Kryptonian materials. There is a slight problem, though. The suit would be made of a weaving of metals and synthetic polymers, and though the latter can be easily made in the matter manipulation chamber, the former cannot. This metal was common in the Rao system, but to my knowledge it wasn’t found on any other worlds besides Krypton and Daxam. I could make something similar, but it wouldn’t be the same. The suit would offer less protection against certain types of radiation and energy transfer, which could potentially leave Kal vulnerable despite his durability._ ”

Lana looked at Clark and then Martha, who was sitting on one of the crystal chairs across the room and still looking at the suit’s design. Clark stayed silent, lost in thought and standing a few meters away from Lana, who was at the console. A flicker of worry passed through her head at the realization that even with all of Clark’s powers, he wasn’t invincible.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Martha said with a tired smile. “But what can we do about it?”

Kelex, uncharacteristically, did not answer right away. Clark did instead.

“What about my ship? Is it made of the same metal?” he asked slowly, looking at the object he mentioned. It was resting on a platform elevated almost a foot off the ground on the west end of the Fortress’s center clearing. 

_“Partially, yes_ ,” said Kelex. He did not elaborate.

“Then maybe we can use some of it. I’m sure you won’t need all of it, but I can remove some parts.”

Martha got up and walked toward her son, eying him with concern. “Are you sure, Clark?”

“Yeah, really,” said Lana, facing him. “Cannibalizing it seems like a huge deal. That’s a direct line to Krypton. You came here in that thing.”

Clark considered their words. He was grateful that they were considerate of his feelings and cognizant of what his heritage meant to him. At the same time, however, it was just a ship. “This whole Fortress is a direct line to Krypton. Having thousands of years’ worth of knowledge and Kelex at my disposal is more than I could have ever dreamed of or asked for. And it’s not like I’m completely destroying my ship.”

Martha, being the more sentimental one in the Kent family, still held a soft, worried look. Lana nodded but eyed Clark uneasily. Even though she’d been here for hours now, being in the Fortress was still trippy. She truly felt as if she were on a different planet despite knowing she wasn’t and having human company. Her hand absentmindedly roamed over the side of the console, marveling at the smoothness of the crystal structure. Looking around the open space she saw that not all crystals were the same. Some of them were completely transparent like glass, but others were cloudy and opaque. There were almost no metal structures, save for parts of the training room and the machine forms that Kelex chose to take from time to time. Lana had a feeling those weren’t made from Kryptonian metals.

“Okay,” said Lana, half shrugging. “If you’re sure.”

Clark nodded. “Kelex, take any of the least useful parts of the ship and use them for the uniform. Only as much as you need.”

Kelex went right to work, giving them an estimated time of twelve hours before the suit would be completed. Clark made sure to keep the sheet that his biological mother made for him, setting it aside for Kelex to add it to the suit as its cape.

In the meantime, Clark, Lana and Martha decided to head back to Keystone City. After getting Mexican takeout for dinner, Clark flew Lana back to Central City so she could prepare for her follow up with the LuthorCorp Fellowship. By now she’d received responses from all of her post-grad options and had decided that she’d go with her first choice soon after graduation. Lana had already dealt with her finals but unfortunately hadn’t been able to rest since orientation for the LuthorCorp Fellowship was scheduled for this coming weekend. She didn’t have much to do in terms of preparation, but she was still anxious.

Being back in the apartment without Clark gave Lana a chance to relax and think. She’d be moving to Metropolis soon for the Fellowship and would be working closely with several people she didn’t know. As daunting as that was, it was her biggest dream. Metropolis was her Mecca and one of the world’s main technology hubs. She counted herself lucky in so many ways, from being accepted to such a prestigious program to being in a relationship with someone who made long distance a non-issue. Very few people got their foot in the door in the realm of their career aspirations on the first try and so soon out of college. Moreover, they were flying her out there and then paying for her stay in such an expensive city for six weeks. Triple-checking that she had everything ready for the morning, Lana set her bags in the corner of her room and put an envelope containing her plane ticket and information regarding where she’d be staying in her jacket. She’d made the decision to stay rooming with Chloe for a little while longer, so she made sure to leave her half of the next month’s rent. Going through her checklist one last time, her lungs expanded with a deep breath. She could not and would not screw this up.

As Lana got ready for bed, she received a text message from her boyfriend.

_Good luck tomorrow. Night :)_

Lana smiled sleepily and wished him a good night in response. It was early for her, but a long day and early flight the next morning had her asleep within minutes.


	9. An Unfathomably Large Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Metropolis. Lana has orientation at Luthorcorp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a Lana centric chapter. Enjoy:)

Lana was early for orientation, perhaps too early. Punctuality was important to her, but it was weird finding herself the first person in the room after she was sent up to the 22nd floor. It made her anxious, worrying if she’d somehow made a mistake. The conference room was long with a huge table, comfy chairs and floor-to-ceiling windows. The front wall was soundproof and all glass, allowing Lana to look into the rest of the gigantic, impeccably styled office space.

Her flight had left at eight that morning. She hadn’t told Clark, but she was pretty nervous about the whole thing and was internally freaking out from the moment she got out of bed until after the plane took off. She’d only flown once before, and even though it had been a smooth ride she hadn’t exactly been eager to do it again. Eventually, after reading a little, she calmed down long enough to take a nap and ended up sleeping until just before the plane landed.

She’d only packed a large suitcase and a medium-sized duffel bag for her extended stay. Living on her own in college, Lana was able to evaluate exactly what she needed and took only what she used all the time (except for accessories, which, now that she thought about it, she probably over-packed just a little). She just hoped that after all she would be doing with the Fellowship she would get a little down time to explore the city.

The cab drive from the airport to where she was staying was captivating. She’d never seen so many tall buildings and types of architecture crammed into one place, even on the outskirts. Most of Metropolis seemed to be big and bright, even from a distance, and Lana immediately loved it. To her, it was like looking into the future and seeing exactly what you hoped for.

Lana didn’t spend much time in the complex that would be housing the eight fellows. It was exclusively owned by and for LuthorCorp, housing those who were of special interest and consideration to the company. The building itself wasn’t particularly tall or crowded, but Lana did see a fair amount of people in the lobby. Most of them were considerably older than her, looking more like foreign business ambassadors than college graduates. Occasionally she’d see a person in plainclothes, which served to intrigue her more than the well-dressed patrons. Maybe they were scientists and engineers who worked for LuthorCorp. Maybe they were businesspeople in disguise. Maybe they were lost. Lana chuckled to herself. The novelty and uncertainty of everything around her made her nervous, but she was enjoying it too.

After awkwardly going through a thorough security check with the man at the front desk, Lana was on her way to her room. She was surprised to find when looking at the building’s directory in the elevator that the layout of each floor was totally different from the next, going from apartment-spaces to hotel-style double rooms to office spaces. Lana’s reserved space, which she’d be sharing with three other people for the next several weeks, was on the sixth floor.

Other fellows had arrived before her. A few small bags and papers were visible, but the people themselves didn't seem to be present. Lana stayed only to drop off her stuff and make sure she looked presentable. A light green blouse, form-fitting white high rise dress pants and comfortable flats felt like the way to go (with some mascara, a little blush, and some jewelry here and there because those never hurt). Leaving again with a small bag of essentials and a notepad, she’d made her way to LuthorCorp Tower.

Now, sitting in the large room and waiting for whoever else was going to show up, Lana surveyed her environment and noted how expensive and bold everything looked. Lana didn’t know much about business, but she’d kept up with the current events regarding the industry in which she was so interested and did her research. She knew LuthorCorp had started as a small aerospace engineering company but over the last decade it had bloomed into a multinational conglomerate in record time. Most of its acquisitions were related to engineering and infrastructure, but in the last month they’d acquired a small pharmaceutical company and an agriculture firm as well. 

Everything in Lana’s line of sight was designed exactly as she’d pictured it would be: serious, subdued colors and décor without any relegation to the standard blacks and whites. It was obvious to her that nothing at LuthorCorp was done without calculation, and the more Lana observed the more she felt like a fish out of water. Or better yet, a small fish in an unfathomably large ocean.

Stiff legs carried her over to the large windows on the far wall overlooking the city to the north. Some distance away Lana could see one of the most famous landmarks in the country, illuminated in the golden sunlight of early afternoon: the Daily Planet building. Momentarily forgetting her anxiety, she scrambled to capture a photo of it with her phone so she could send it to Clark. She then looked out to the far right, where she could see the bay. Lana had almost forgotten about the city across it, and for a moment she was grateful. It was faint, but even from this distance that place looked odd, like it was dark even in the daytime. It gave her chills as if she were looking at a haunted house. Lana scoffed at the thought. Sure, it had its reputation but Gotham City couldn’t be that bad, could it?

Clark responded a minute later gushing about how cool the picture was, and she couldn’t help but laugh. Checking the time and seeing that there were seventeen minutes left until orientation was scheduled to start, Lana decided to take her seat again facing the glass wall closest to the inside office.

She immediately froze. On the other side of the glass were four people, three of whom she recognized immediately. Two men and two women were walking down the hallway: one tall, severe-looking woman at the front, the two men shoulder to shoulder just behind her and the last woman a few steps behind them. The front three were the Luthors (Lillian, Lionel and Alexander, who everyone called Lex), but the last person Lana could not place. The Luthors were moderately famous, for obvious reasons, and Lana had been positive she wouldn’t be seeing them at all. Yet, here they unmistakably were.

Lillian was impeccably dressed in burgundy and black with her dark red hair in a tight bun. She looked exactly how she did in interviews and tabloid pictures: perfectly poised with a look that could kill. Lana appreciated and admired women that were strong and took no bullshit in a sexist male-dominated world, but something told her that Lillian was a bit more austere than she needed to be. Her scowl looked permanent.

Lionel was much taller than she’d thought he’d be. From where she was sitting it looked like he was as tall as Clark. He was wearing a navy suit with a white shirt and striped gray necktie. His hair was long and curly, a dark brown but flecked with gray here and there. The billionaire’s face held a thoughtful expression at something his son was telling him, giving him a stern look belied by the deep laugh lines around his eyes. As if to emphasize them, he chuckled suddenly and nodded to Lex, eliciting a smirk from his son.

The younger Luthor male was a couple of inches shorter than his father, with lighter hair cropped short but long enough so that you could see his curls. It was a reddish brown, more like Lillian’s, and the piercing look in his eyes that seemed to be his default was his mother’s as well. He wasn’t wearing a full suit like Lionel was. He’d foregone the jacket and instead wore only a light blue dress shirt with the top unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up. Unlike his father’s, Lex’s smile didn’t meet his eyes.

The woman behind the three Luthors intrigued Lana differently than the others had. She was star-struck at first, but now she was curious. Lionel, Lex, and Lillian all looked similar, but the person bringing up the rear didn’t look much like any of them. Her hair was the darkest of all of them, black as a night with no stars. In stark contrast was her skin, white and pale enough that her cheeks were naturally tinged a bit pink. The others were light-skinned but not nearly as pale.

Lana was positive that the woman was younger than her, though she couldn’t tell by how much. She hadn’t heard about any other members of the Luthor family after Lex, who was three years older than her. Still, they were known to be a decently private bunch. The last thing Lana noticed was her outfit, which was devoid of any color unlike the others. She wore a white ruffled blouse with a plain black pencil skirt. Her black heels were not nearly as high as Lillian’s, but definitely noticeable.

The four of them entered the room in which Lana was waiting, and she scrambled to look presentable and professional. Lillian noticed and stiffened minutely. She wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been looking, but since she had, it put Lana on her guard as well. Lex on the other hand walked in behind his mother, calm and casual. Lionel had held the door open and was now whispering something to the young woman that made her smile softly. She nodded to him as he closed the door. Lana knew she should say something, but she was completely at a loss for words. Luckily, Lex broke the silence for her.

“You must be one of the new fellows,” said Lex, his voice smooth and clear. He walked over while extending his hand. “Hi, I’m Lex.”

Lana nodded and shook his hand. “I’m Lana. Lana Lang.” Her voice came out much higher than it normally did and she couldn’t stop her eyes from shifting from person to person. The room suddenly felt crowded.

“Lana Lang?” repeated Lionel, turning to face her fully. His voice was commanding without being too loud. A smile touched his face. “Wonderful. As I’m sure most have figured out, we have a certain fondness for alliterative ‘L’ names.”

Lana chuckled nervously. Lillian had gone to the far side of the room close to the windows and produced a small tablet from her purse. She began typing and swiping with her fingers frantically, effectively excluding herself from conversation. The fourth of the group set herself against the wall behind Lex and Lionel, staring out the window and absentmindedly playing with her hands.

“You’re early,” Lionel continued amiably, checking his watch. “We’ve got a little over fifteen minutes before we start.”

“I was a bit nervous,” said Lana with a shaky laugh, looking between the two men. Lex smiled back warmly. “I didn’t want to create the possibility of being late.”

Lionel gave her an impressed look. “Create the possibility...very interesting choice of words, Miss Lang. I applaud your forethought and ownership of potential consequences.”

“Um, thank you, sir.”

Lex took a seat right off the corner of the long conference table, leaning against the arm rest and spreading his legs, totally relaxed. Lionel remained standing and checked his watch again.

“Where’s Jacoby?” muttered Lionel to no one in particular. Lex answered without looking at him.

“He was fired last week for a very long homophobic rant on Facebook.”

Lionel nodded in remembrance. “Right, yes. Good. Well that means Miss Graves is head of the R&D department now and therefore should be here to lead orientation. Frankly, it’s a bit alarming that there are only two people here even if it is a bit early.”

Lana's gaze flitted to the youngest person in the room. So she _was_ a fellow.

Lillian walked back over to Lionel, still holding her tablet, and whispered something in his ear. He sighed dejectedly and pursed his lips in response, then shrugged. Just then a tall Japanese woman made her way into the room in a huff, carrying a bag and a stack of small packets. She smiled cordially at everyone before setting her charges on the table.

“Speak of the devil and she shall appear,” said Lex with a smirk. “Or maybe guardian angel in this case.”

The woman gave him a knowing look and smirked back. “With a halo and everything,” she responded. With a short wave of her hand she greeted the other woman still leaning against the wall. “Hey, Lena.”

Lena smiled shyly and waved back. “Hey, Mercy.”

Lana took the time to turn off her phone and get herself ready, taking a seat at the table two down from Lex. Miss Graves set up her laptop and distributed the packets to the empty spaces around the table while talking to Lionel. Apparently some of the other fellows were on their way up now.

“Perfect,” said Lionel. “Lillian just informed me that one declined the offer and will be taking up another one. Rather short notice but better we don’t have anyone less than professional, don’t you agree?”

Lena walked over and took her seat across from Lana as three more people walked into Lana’s line of sight, stopping behind the glass wall to peer inside. They looked to be just as star-struck as Lana had been, searching around the office and probably hesitant to walk in for fear of entering the wrong room and leaving a bad impression. Eventually they did come in and were greeted warmly by Mercy (who introduced herself as Mercedes) and the Luthors (stoically by Lillian).

Lana surveyed the others quickly in a very awkward silence that had no effect on the Luthors. Not having much to go on, she didn’t make many assumptions but noted how different everyone looked. If she found out later that any two of them were from the same place, she’d be shocked. The last two fellows came in with a few minutes to spare, and orientation began.

Lana paid rapt attention as Mercedes skillfully led her presentations and explained the Fellowship in detail, but she was also painfully aware of the Luthors, who had taken seats at the back of the room. Lena had remained in her seat across from her, which confused Lana. She had arrived with the Luthors, but was a fellow. Nothing about her screamed “Luthor,” but then she knew the director of LuthorCorp’s R&D department by name. Curiosity threatened to get the better of her but now wasn’t the time to let her mind wander. Lana did her best to focus.

The bulk of the fellowship involved assisting with all parts of the research and development processes of an assortment of projects from initial drafting to paper publication. Of course, there would be a lot of shadowing and a crash course in industry procedure as well. Lana buzzed with excitement at all the new and detailed information. Everything she heard sounded incredible.

The fellows’ first tasks were to read over their packet, sign the agreements, and then peruse a particular article and part of a paper in the _International Journal of Robotics Research_ for Monday. After the signed agreements were collected, the fellows were personally addressed by Lionel Luthor in conclusion of orientation. He commanded their attention, wishing them well but stressing the importance of dedication and hard work in the coming weeks. All were surprised to meet and be addressed by any Luthor directly, but even more surprising was the invitation for an early dinner that Lionel and Lillian extended to them. Mercedes had prior engagements, but everyone else was set to meet again in three hours.

Some of the other fellows went back to their shared LuthorCorp-sponsored apartments, so Lana found out who her roommates were going to be. Admittedly, she’d already been emailed a list of their names as part of preparation but she’d been more focused on everything else to remember them. Originally there had been four people assigned to the apartment space, but the one who had rescinded their RSVP was one of them so now Lana only had two other roommates, both of which were now with her. One of them was the tallest of the group, a dark-skinned woman with curly black hair and a bright, lopsided smile. She’d been the only person besides Lana to routinely ask questions during orientation, where she’d introduced herself as Takeia. Lana’s other roommate was Lena.

Takeia was the most talkative, and held conversation with her new flatmates all the way up to their apartment. Lena would contribute from time to time, but Lana could tell she was more comfortable staying quiet. Once in the apartment, the three of them had settled in a bit more and Takeia opted to shower and relax before they headed out again. This left Lana and Lena alone in the small living area on opposite sides of the long couch.

Both of them were on their laptops, sitting in silence. Lana had wanted to read at least a little of their assignment before going to dinner, but after reading the abstract she knew that she would need more energy to get through it than she currently had. Looking over to the other side of the couch, Lana let her curiosity get the better of her this time. Lena sat cross-legged with her computer in her lap and the top two buttons of her blouse undone. Peeking out from under it was a necklace and hanging pendant. It was circular, silver, and only slightly larger than a half-dollar coin. An intricate design played across it in what looked like four interlocked symmetrical swirls oriented in an X pattern, but from that distance it was a bit hard to see any more details. On the brightly lit screen Lana found the last thing she’d expected to see – a chessboard.

Lena peered at her screen with bored, lidded eyes and sighed. Her right hand drifted lazily over the mousepad, making another move every so often. Lana stared, fixated on the other girl’s screen.

“Do you like chess?” Lena said suddenly. Lana was so unprepared for her to speak that she jumped in surprise.

“Uh, sure. Recreationally, I guess.”

Lena looked at Lana out of the corner of her eye. Her mouth twitched. “Could’ve fooled me, with the less-than-casual staring and all.”

“Sorry,” said Lana. In most cases she wasn’t nervous when meeting new people, but something about Lena was unnerving. Not in a bad way, but the way one feels when coming across something one had never seen before. “I actually enjoy Checkers more. You look like you’re pretty good.”

Lena’s lips pulled up just enough for Lana to register a smirk. She met Lana’s eyes. “It’s ‘cause I am. I kind of feel bad for this guy. I can tell he’s had some experience, but he’s out of his depth.”

Lana raised an eyebrow, glancing at the online chess forum up on the screen. Back at LuthorCorp, Lena had seemed reserved and withdrawn when she came in with the Luthors. Now, Lana was pleasantly surprised to see the bold confidence underneath it. She looked more relaxed than she was at orientation, and Lana decided to take her chances at further conversation.

“When did you get here?” asked Lana tentatively. Lena continued to play. “I thought I was early as hell, but you were there before me and already chumming it up with the Luthors.”

“Landed in Metropolis last night,” Lena answered slowly, running her hand through her hair. “Got up early to drop in and say hi. My dad…used to be an employee there, so I’ve met them before.”

Lana eyed the chess player warily. She didn’t think Lena was being entirely truthful, but figured she’d drop it for the most part. They’d only just met, after all. Lena turned to Lana and looked her full in the eyes. It wasn’t too intense of a look, but it still caught Lana off guard.

“This isn’t a case of nepotism, if that’s what you’re thinking. Believe me, I’ve had to jump through a shit-ton of hoops to even be considered so it’s quite the opposite.” Her jaw clenched and her forehead creased as she turned her attention back to her match. Lana had to admit that the thought did cross her mind. Looking at her side profile, Lana was fascinated with the structure of her face. The juxtaposition of sharp lines and soft curves made it look like she was expertly carved from stone. Lana let her continue. “One would think being my age would bolster the application, not detract from it.”

Lena had grumbled that last bit to herself but it was just loud enough for Lana to hear it. Her question came out before it could be stopped. “How old are you?”

Lena’s eyes flitted over to her and then back to her screen just as quickly. She pursed her lips and answered. “Nineteen.”

“ _What_?” Lana knew she had to be younger than her, but she hadn’t expected her to still be a teenager. Lena’s expression turned uneasy, reminiscent of how she’d been earlier that day. Lana softened her tone. “Sorry. But that’s incredible! You have to have a degree to be accepted into the fellowship, so that means –”

“That I already graduated from college, yeah. Did a Master’s program in Computer Engineering, specializing in Robotics at MIT. Didn’t take summers or winters off so it only took three years. I’ll be doing Nanotechnology next.” Lana gaped, open-mouthed at the dark-haired woman on the other side of the couch. “Ha! Checkmate.”

Lena sighed contentedly and closed her laptop after clicking out of the forum. Lana continued to stare. “So you’re some type of genius or what?” she teased.

Lena turned to face Lana diagonally, leaning against the cushions. A small smile played on her lips but her eyes held a distant look. “I don’t think that’s it. I just had the opportunity to learn and apply myself at my own pace. The public and even private education systems don’t normally allow for that to happen. Actually, they work to discourage it. But I think if they allowed kids to learn their own way then my case would be significantly less out of the ordinary.”

Lana considered her words briefly, then nodded in agreement. She remembered being bored in class many a time and had wished on several occasions for the teacher to move on more quickly or to teach something new and more interesting. “You’re probably right. But then we’d have to worry about the cost of college way sooner than we end up doing now.”

Lena closed her eyes and nodded, gritting her teeth. “That’s a whole other problem.”

Lana chuckled, relaxing into the cushions. She watched Lena's hands come together, rolling over one another, fingers tapping together. It was an odd move, but one she’d seen her do earlier. Lana wondered if Lena worked just as much with her hands as she did with her mind. It was common for those who worked with their hands to develop unconscious movements like that. She’d noticed Clark had a habit of tapping his middle finger against his thigh when he was standing with his hands at his sides.

Lana’s phone vibrated in her pocket and she immediately retrieved it to find Clark calling. Lena was already opening her laptop back up, effectively ending the conversation, so Lana walked to the kitchen.

“Hey, babe. What’s up?” she answered.

_“Hey. Just wanted to hear your voice. I’m hanging out in the Fortress breaking in the new suit. It’s pretty great, I gotta say. Super comfortable.”_

“Very nice,” she drawled in a low voice. “I bet it looks great too. Send me a picture when you get the chance.”

_“Hmm. Naughty.”_

Lana burst out laughing. “Not like that...well, maybe later but not right now.”

_“I’ll consider it.”_

“Uh-huh.” Lana dropped her voice and paused, suddenly unsure of herself. She knew she was about to wade into uncharted territory soon, and as much as she welcomed it she needed some form of consistency to anchor it all. A question escaped her lips. “Can you come to Metropolis tomorrow? It’s my last free-ish day before things start to get serious here so…I kind of need to see you again. To, you know…tide me over till the next time.”

_“Of course. Text me when you’re free tomorrow and I’ll be there in ten.”_

The rest of their conversation was short. After Takeia finished her bathroom routine Lana had decided to freshen up as well. Lena, in the meantime, won another game of chess and then switched her shoes to join them.


	10. Supersonic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark saves a plane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, now things are picking up!

The group of ten reassembled at a small Italian restaurant six blocks from LuthorCorp Tower. Lana was grateful that the place wasn’t too upscale. She’d been out of her element enough today and wouldn’t have trusted herself to handle more of it. The Luthors were only slightly more casual than they had been a few hours before (except for Lillian, who had replaced her blouse and skirt ensemble with a dark blue cocktail dress, so about the same). Though the fellows were, understandably, nervous to be in such a setting with the famous trio, it didn’t take long for Lionel and Lex to take the edge off with lighthearted chatter.

The venue was deceptively spacious, and not very busy. They’d put three tables together to fit all the fellows, specifically to accommodate one named Geraldo (he insisted that everyone called him Gerry), who was in a wheelchair. Oddly, it didn’t seem to sit well with some of the staff. Lana figured that being as famous and rich as they were, the Luthors were not denied something very often. Though in this case, it would’ve also been in poor taste not to accommodate a disabled person, so really, what were they going to do?

Without the stress and expectations of being in another professional setting, Lana was much more relaxed and able to remember everyone’s names this time. Aside from her and her new roommates were: Gerry, who was rather lighthearted with tanned skin, wavy black hair, and glasses; Sitara, an Indian woman with three piercings in each ear, an extensive vocabulary, and bangs; Daron, who was rather short and had a booming laugh while also an angry-looking resting face; and Margaret, who was Korean, had a slight accent and a penchant for dirty jokes. All of them seemed to mesh well for the most part, though everyone did not contribute equally. Lionel, Takeia, and Gerry talked the most, with Lex and Sitara interjecting frequently. Lillian, Daron and Lana didn’t offer much in the way of new subject matter but did offer responses time to time. Lena and Margaret talked the least. Lana enjoyed how personable the Luthors were. They had a decent reputation bolstered by good press, but it was another thing entirely to witness it for yourself. Even as the food came, they were amiable as ever to the staff. 

“Wow, this soup is great,” said Gerry halfway through. “Not as good as my boyfriend’s _sancocho_ , though, but still great.”

Lana snorted and swallowed a bite of pasta. “Is anything as good as _sancocho_ though?” she smirked. It had been a while since she’d had some, but it had immediately cemented itself as one of her top five favorite dishes once she’d tried it. Chloe had taken her to a Latin restaurant in Central City last year and in the month following she’d ordered it six more times.

Gerry laughed and nodded, nudging Lena who was sitting on his left. “See, she knows.”

Lionel gestured to the television screens mounted above the bar a few yards away and had everyone looking. They were all playing the news. Lana saw a story about an airplane, but was bummed that she couldn’t hear it from where they were sitting. Lionel rectified that problem.

“That is a joint project between Boeing and LuthorCorp. Some of you may have heard about it, some may not have, but I want all of you to internalize this. This aircraft is a supersonic transport designed to carry civilian passengers or cargo while being as fuel efficient as possible. I’m sure you all can extrapolate the implications of having something like this at one’s disposal. It took several years to get through the negotiations between LuthorCorp and Boeing to even greenlight this project and longer still to reach the finished product you see here. Today it took its maiden flight from New York City and will be landing here in Metropolis within the next half hour or so. The whole point of this fellowship is to bring ingenuity, ambition, and a diversity of experiences from young and old minds alike together so we can make masterpieces like that. Hopefully one day each of you will have a venture with your name on it.”

Having done her research beforehand, Lana had heard about the project. She stared at the television. All the work and study she’d done in college had gotten her here, but she’d be lying if she said she felt prepared. The vastness of the unknown future laid itself out in front of her and on the horizon she saw a bright spot, a goal she’d been holding onto since her first science fair. Money and fame weren’t something she’d considered when so young (though now they didn’t seem so bad), but influence was everything to her. Even in grade school she’d been privy to the lack of influence she’d have first as a kid and then later as a woman. So when Lana built a small radio in sixth grade, eyes alight with focus and spirit, she told herself that one day she’d do something big enough to change the world. Now she told herself she’d do something even bigger than a supersonic transport capable of sending food, medicine and supplies to disaster victims with unprecedented speed.

Lana looked across the table at Lena. She had the same determined look in her eyes. The crease in her brow and tensed jaw were accentuated by the slight curve of her lips, giving her a look that radiated dominance and a certain passive comfort with power. Then it was gone, fading into an expressionless face as Lena went back to eating.

********************

The editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet was not fond of having a messy office or an even messier desk, but a busy workday had a way of throwing a wrench into what he wanted. Perry White checked his phone and left his dilapidated workspace reading a text from his husband asking if he’d be home in time for a late dinner. He replied that he would.

Perry had called a meeting earlier and now, making his way to the conference room closest to his office, he regretted that idea and chastised himself for not waiting until tomorrow morning. Most of tomorrow’s paper had already been put together, but it was always better to know what would be in store for the next day ahead of time. Still, a lot of this could probably be done by email.

“What’ve we got, Ron?” said Perry, taking a seat at the head of the conference table. It was nice to see that everyone else had gathered before him for a change. The two overhead screens on the far wall were muted, playing the news from different channels but both showing coverage on the supersonic flight.

“New stuff? Not all that much, at least nothing big. Protests of the pipeline projects are already covered and Cat’s still out working another school shooting story,” Ron answered, twirling a ballpoint pen through his fingers. He nodded to the screens. “Lois is still on the supersonic flight, of course.”

Perry clenched his jaw solemnly, nodding. One thing he hated about working in news for thirty years was how often he had to report the bad. There was always something awful going on, no matter how slow the day was.

He sighed, moving on. “Steve, you’re still on sports. Cover the Monarchs day game tomorrow against the Knights and see if you can get an interview with Julius Reyes. He’s hot right now.”

“Got it,” said Steve automatically. “Hopefully we’ll sweep Gotham.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. Maria, where’s your piece on the president’s meeting with the Canadian prime minister?”

Maria Castela scribbled in her notepad. “In the Dropbox, Mr. White. I emailed you a few other stories I found that might be newsworthy as well.”

“Great. I’ll take a look.” Perry surveyed the room. They were all restless, including him. He figured he’d cut this short after a little brainstorming session. “Speaking of which…does anybody else have stories you want to run by me? And I mean good ones, not the filler stuff. We’re overflowing with that already.”

Steve perked up immediately. “Rebecca Carstairs just got engaged. Second time in as many years.”

“Uh-huh. Keep going.”

“A test run for Ferris Aircraft went awry in Coast City and a pilot went missing,” said Josef Shuman.

“Hmm, might have been more newsworthy if it weren’t on the other side of the country. Ferris Air is big, though. If nothing else comes up, it’s an option. Next.”

Ron spoke up again this time. “This year so far is the first time Gotham’s crime rate has decreased since 1996. On an unrelated note, there have been more sightings of a mysterious “Monster Man” in Gotham too.”

Perry smirked at Ron, who joined him. “Get more info on the crime statistics then run it by me again. Drop the Big Foot angle.”

“You sure? I always wanted to get into cryptozoology.” Ron’s only answer was a dramatic eye roll. “Okay fine.”

Perry shook his head, exhausted but in a better mood. He looked around the room again. “That everything?”

Nobody answered, so he took that as a yes. He nodded to himself, winding his mind down to start the end of the day. “Great,” said Perry. “We all know what to do. If your normal shift is over you can go, and if not –”

Perry’s tired brown eyes flitted over the screens again and stopped. There was a breaking news banner playing across them, and he immediately grabbed the remote control on his side of the table to unmute them. The rest of the room turned to the screens to find an anchorman relaying the news.

“ _–have just received word that the maiden flight of Boeing and LuthorCorp’s L707 supersonic airliner is experiencing a midair emergency. Reports say that upon its descent the aircraft hit a flock of birds at 24000 feet, causing it to lose both engines. Shrapnel from its left engine has damaged its wing and punctured the cabin…_ ”

********************

Lana and the others were split between two conversations on opposite halves of the table. They weren’t loud but certainly animated, dipping heads low and leaning in to participate. Lionel was engaging the fellows closest to him with a story about an old business rival when Lex, sitting at his right off the head of the table, nudged him gravely. “Dad,” he said, pointing to the screens above the bar. “Something’s wrong.”

Breaking news banners were playing across the screens, and Lionel immediately got up to get closer. Lana, Lex and Lena followed right behind him. They stopped at halfway to the bar, but it was close enough. They all heard what was going on.

Lionel excused himself to make a call while Lex and Lena stayed put, watching the news as if in a trance. Lana headed straight to the bathroom, taking her phone out of her back pocket on the way. Nobody was inside, and Lana counted her blessings. With mind and heart racing, she made a call.

*************************

Clark walked up to the edge of the platform where his ship rested. His cape swung behind him, licking the back of his calves. He’d been in the suit for hours now, training or just hanging out in it to get used to how it felt. Clark had taken to it immediately, reveling in how the foreign materials felt and taking pride in the fact that he’d helped design it (down to the small sealed pockets, located on his lower back behind his erector spinae). His phone, which he’d put in one of them, began vibrating continuously, signaling a call. He answered.

“Hey Lana, what’s up?”

“ _Clark_?”

His whole body tensed, instantly registering the fear in Lana’s voice. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“ _There’s, uh…there’s a plane–a supersonic plane flying from New York to Metropolis. Both engines are blown out and there’s a hole in the cabin.” Clark could tell Lana was trying to keep cool, but her voice shook despite its strength. She started to ramble. “The left wing is damaged. It has to fall fast at first to make sure the passengers don’t lose oxygen b-but the flight pattern is unpredictable with part of a wing gone. Clark…there’s almost a hundred people in there and I don’t think that plane can land_.”

A wealth of understanding flowed between them. Clark heard her silent plea. Lana was afraid for them and so was he, in addition to his worry over other things. There were so many logistical things he hadn’t figured out yet. They hadn’t talked about the implications of his decision in the context of their relationship or even what he thought his personal relationship was to humanity. But now there was no time to quell the fear, for himself or for those people. It was one thing to hear about disasters on the news; they were always over before you knew anything about them and even if you did there was nothing you could have done to stop it. For Clark it was different. Thanks to Lana, this time he had a chance.

“How much time do I have?” he asked, his voice taking on a clear, commanding tone mixed with an odd softness. It surprised even him.

“ _If the plane suffers any more damage, not even a few minutes._ ”

“Got it.”

Clark ended the call and retrieved his teleporter while returning his phone back to his pocket, at breakneck speed. He activated it, coming to stand in Martha’s living room in Keystone City a second later before leaving the device on the coffee table. No one was home, and he was glad that his mother had not been present to witness the abrupt intrusion. He moved to the window facing the alley behind the building, and opened it wide enough to slip through into the air high above the concrete. Shooting straight up into the sky over the city, he pushed hard, steadily gaining speed and altitude until he was cruising in the higher half of the troposphere at almost triple re-entry speed. Clark felt his heart in his throat. He’d never gone anywhere near this fast before.

Slowing as he reached the southwestern edge of Metropolis, he scanned the sky for miles to pinpoint the plane. He pursed his lips in frustration, using his x-ray vision to see through the mess of clouds. There were a couple of airplanes below him, ascending and descending, but those seemed to be fine. Then he saw it – a white and green airliner falling at an awkward angle with half the left wing missing and the right engine still burning.

He x-rayed the cabin while making a beeline for the plane. There were injuries, but nobody was dead. The oxygen masks were down and the passengers were buckled down in their seats. Small miracles.

Unfortunately there were still three problems. The plane was already less than 10,000 feet above the ground. The hole in the left side of the cabin was big enough for a person to fit through, which would’ve been enough of a hazard even if it wasn’t affecting the plane’s ability to fly. Lastly, part of a wing missing. Coming up on the plane, Clark gritted his teeth at the difficult situation but figured he could kill two birds with one stone if he moved fast enough.

He climbed higher, shooting up to roll over and back down directly above the right wing of the plane. One short thin blast of heat vision severed most of it, and he dove to catch the back edge of the wing in his hands and tear it off. Rolling up and left again he dropped to synchronize his fall with the plane’s, carrying the end of the right wing. He overshot it a bit, stopping just in front of the large hole. Clark made the mistake of momentarily looking inside the cabin. Amid the cacophony of hammering heartbeats, he heard screams as well. Three people were now looking at him with complete incredulity: two older men in matching polo shirts sitting next to each other holding hands, and a young woman sitting on the other side of the aisle next to them. Her long, dark straightened hair that was blowing partly in her face, and the press pass clipped to the lapel of her navy business suit flapped wildly. Her eyes were a dark brown and opened wider than Clark had ever seen a pair of eyes. The whole thing lasted for a second, but Clark chastised himself for the wasted time. He went back to work.

Clark pulled back, lining up the flat side of the wing fragment with the side of the plane. It was more than enough to cover the hole, and this time he used his heat vision softly, focusing more on heat than force to weld the metal in place. The cabin pressure was now as stabilized as it would get and the weight of the plane was more evenly distributed, but it couldn't stay horizontal with no engines and half wings. The cabin, which was already falling fast, fell into a nosedive and now he was doing the same.

He couldn’t just catch the plane from the front. The nose would crumple and he had no idea how much damage the inertia would cause. Pulling the plane at any point would cause pieces to rip apart. “Come on, Clark. Think,” he muttered to himself.

Aligning his body with the plane, Clark skimmed the bottom of it with his back until he came to rest just under the nose. He tucked his head down and spread his arms out at his sides against the metal, flexing his wrists to keep himself in place. Leaning his back into the metal, he pulled his legs in and flew upward fast to give the fall some slope and level it out. The bottom of the cockpit crumpled inward a bit with the shape of his body, but it worked. The front of the plane began to fall more slowly than the back end, and Clark knew he had to be quick to avoid making the plane dive the other way. Keeping the plane horizontal would decrease its terminal velocity and minimize inertial damage. Falling into a somersault, he twisted upside down so that when he came up he was facing the other way, but now under the middle of the plane. He took a deep breath.

Clark spread his arms out again and this time added his legs, slowly flexing harder and harder as the plane fell to slow its descent while he pushed upward. _God, I hope this doesn’t break the plane in half_ , he thought to himself. Looking down, Clark’s eyes widened as he saw how far they fell. They were now high above Gotham Bay, closer to Metropolis than to Gotham and way too low for his liking. He pushed harder.

Clark could hear the creaking of the metal as it crumpled around him. His heart slammed against his chest in a panic. What if he pushed too hard? If he tears a hole in the bottom with too much force the cabin would split. He couldn’t save two halves of a plane this low.

The whole plane began to slow considerably. The sound of bending metal ceased. He smiled broadly and laughed in exasperated relief, sliding off the bottom of the plane and letting it come to rest horizontally in the line of his outstretched arms with his head ducked in the classic Atlas pose. Several hundred feet above the water, Clark and the plane came to a stop.

Less than half a mile off the edge of the bay, Clark could see people gathering at the piers to watch the commotion. He looked around, making an effort to ignore the heartbeats and erratic breathing from inside the plane. He couldn’t just drop them anywhere, so he figured he’d take it to the airport, where it was supposed to be anyway.

Clark didn’t have much choice but to fly over the northern tip of New Troy, the island center and heart of Metropolis. He was high enough that he could hold the plane and avoid any of the tall buildings, which was more than enough to avoid being seen directly by anyone on the ground. The obvious thing, though, was the expected mass confusion when seeing a huge flying mass stop in midair and slowly float away. That in itself wasn’t much of an issue to Clark, but he still hadn’t exactly figured out what he was going to do when face to face with strangers that didn’t hold some type of societal authority. It would be more than shocking for them. What would he do? Say hi?

He didn’t have to worry much until he got to the runways at Metropolis International. He’d ignored the sounds coming from the plane earlier, but now he tuned in. There was enormous chatter coming from the pilots as well as the communications towers around the airport. They were confused, terrified, and angry, and he’d definitely been spotted. Clark felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. This was it, and he felt wildly unprepared. This wasn’t just a small rescue or a quick random act of kindness where he could disappear shortly after and nobody would remember him. He just saved a gigantic airplane with a bunch of people inside in broad daylight wearing a form-fitting red and blue suit. There was no coming back from this.

No other plane seemed to be landing just then, but as a precaution Clark decided to head over to the end of the runway away from all the jet bridges. The pilots were obviously paying attention because the wheels deployed as they got closer to the ground. Clark finally lowered the plane until the wheels came to rest on the pavement. He hadn’t asked Lana how she knew about the danger, but listening to the voices down the runway he could tell it had been on the news. There seemed to be correspondents and camera crews, some making calls to their respective stations and others running or driving closer to where he was. Clark flew around to the front of the plane. The pilot and copilot were frozen, eyes wide and transfixed on Clark’s floating form just outside the front windows. He smiled lightly, holding his hand up in a greeting, then pointed to the back of the cockpit. One of them stayed perfectly still and the other flinched. Clark sighed, raising his hands and eyebrows in placation. He slowly mouthed the word “open” and pointed again.

This time the pilot looked at her copilot, then at the cockpit door, and then back at Clark. He could see all the emotions playing over her face as she slowly got up. Clark exhaled in relief and appreciation and flew back to the plug door. Reaching forward, he jammed his fingers through the metal and casually tore it off to toss it on the ground away from the plane. The evacuation slide deployed and inflated automatically, and the pilots came out of the cockpit to meet him. Clark was still floating.

People outside were coming up on the plane now, but Clark ignored them. Two flight attendants walked up to join the pilots and saw him, eliciting a similar response to the first two. All were female except the copilot, so Clark refrained from x-raying them to assess their injuries. To them it would probably seem like unabashed ogling, and that was not how he wanted to make his first impression.

“Are you all right?” Clark asked with an open expression. He landed in the doorway. Only one decided to answer, a short blonde flight attendant with red-painted nails. She nodded once quickly. Clark gave her a small smile.

“I, uh, know this has been scary and confusing,” said Clark, “but everything’s going to be fine. I promise. Mind if I get in here?”

The four in front of him now seemed to be looking at his uniform, all with different expressions. No answer came, so Clark just moved to nudge past them.

“What the fuck just happened here?” blurted the copilot suddenly. Clark whipped around.

Not sure how to respond, Clark went with the truth. “The plane got damaged, so I helped. Slowed the fall, then carried you guys here.”

A short awkward silence ensued. The copilot’s eyes darted around the space and his brow furrowed even further. He spoke again and the others looked between them oddly. “…right.”

Clark took a deep breath to calm himself and walked into the cabin. Some passengers were still seated, others were out and hugging people they knew, and a few more were standing in the aisle. His entry commanded most of their attention, and he received a wide range of reactions. Ignoring all of that, he opened up his body language and spoke slowly and clearly.

“Is everyone okay?” Many, surprisingly, answered with a shy nod or affirmative grunt. Clark scanned the area, x-raying everyone. Most were fine with some cuts and bruises, but there were also three people with concussions and a little girl with a broken ulna.

“Good. Now if I can have everyone exit the plane quickly and calmly, that’d be wonderful. You’ll need to watch your steps. The evacuation slide is out but you can still hurt yourselves if you’re not careful.”

Clark exited the plane and to his relief most followed. A small group of news people and runway workers were now gathered several meters from the edge of the slide, chattering. Clark tried to pay more attention to the passengers coming out, but the fact that he was floating in midair above them made him very aware that the cameras were trained on him. His jaw clenched in focus. The wind blew at his cape, and he was grateful that despite its thinness it was neither diaphanous nor particularly light.

Once everyone was out, including the flight attendants and pilots, Clark floated down and addressed one of the runway workers after separating the more injured passengers. “Most of these people are okay but they should get medical attention just in case. These three have concussions, so make sure they don’t fall asleep or do anything strenuous for a while. This one has a broken arm, so please be gentle.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” the runway worker responded, his eyebrows raised and hands picking at his vest. “Paramedics are already on their way.”

He was still nervous as all hell, but Clark could also feel himself gaining confidence with each passing second. He decided to roll with it. The passengers were all still milling around the same area, so he decided to speak with them.

“These guys will take it from here,” he said, gesturing to the runway workers in bright vests. Everyone on the runway was looking at him now. Not sure what to do, he smiled softly. “Now, uh…I hope this incident hasn’t put any of you off flying. Statistically speaking, it’s still the safest way to travel.”

“Thank you!”

The words came from the little girl with the broken arm, now leaning against her mother a few yards away and holding her arm gently. She wasn’t a baby, but definitely younger than ten years old. Clark couldn’t help smiling, and gave her a wave. She waved back. “You’re very welcome,” he replied.

Taking that as his cue to leave, Clark began to float away. The correspondents huddled a ways away from the congregation of passengers began to bombard him with questions as the paramedics pulled up. One question stood out above the rest, and he stopped to answer it. Only after looking back down did Clark realize that it had come from one of the passengers. The woman he’d seen earlier with the navy suit and the press pass was looking back at him expectantly.

“Who are you?” she’d asked.

Clark’s first instinct was to give his name – his Kryptonian name – but something told him that wasn’t the way to go. He obviously couldn’t give his human name, either. He didn’t want to impose a view of himself onto humanity, but at the same time he was being given a chance to control his own narrative, which was something most people weren’t allowed to do. This wasn’t the time for a full-fledged explanation. Yet, an answer was imperative. So, who was he?

“A friend.”

********************

Lana couldn’t stop smiling. A small part of her was sorry they didn’t have more time to prepare for Clark’s coming out, but boy, this was a hell of an entrance. Despite the confusion, news outlets were quickly informed of the plane’s miraculous recovery and now it was plastered on every channel. At some point, reporters had gotten close enough to get a shot of Clark at the airport, though he’d been up in the air at the time. Lana wasn’t sure if Clark did it on purpose or not, but none of them got that good of a look at him despite being so close. They’d gotten his back in high resolution, but not much more than his chin from below or the side of his face when he was on the ground.

The sun was starting to set and almost everyone in the restaurant was on their feet, huddled by the bar to watch the news. Lana and the other nine of her party were clustered in the middle. She was standing between Lex and Lena, who she now noticed had very different expressions. Lena was a mess of confusion, mouth agape and brow creased so that her eyebrows weren’t level. She was absentmindedly holding the pendant at her neck in her fingers, skimming the tips over the grooved design. Lex’s face was an open canvass of wonder, eyes wide and brows raised. Just barely, Lana could hear him breathe a word. “Remarkable.”

******************

Perry and the others stared at the televisions in the conference room, flummoxed. Just minutes before, the editor-in-chief was sure that one of his most promising reporters was about to die, and now everything was okay thanks to the appearance of a colorful flying man. What the fuck was going on? People didn’t fly.

Contrary to all logic, there it was on camera. Steve looked around the room. “Everybody else is seeing this, right? I’m not tripping balls?”

Nobody answered him, and instead Perry whipped out his phone to call Lois. He’d known the footage was real because he’d seen her there in the crowd on the runway. She picked up after two rings and he put the phone on speaker before laying it on the table.

“Lois? Are you all right?” asked Perry tentatively.

“ _Hey, Perry. Yeah, I’m good. Just a couple bumps and bruises. No biggie. I’m assuming you’re watching the news?_ ”

“Everybody’s here. You wanna tell us what the hell we’re seeing?”

“ _Well so far it looks like a man who can literally fly and catch a damn plane falling out of the sky, so…nothing anyone’s ever seen before. I’m still freaking out, obviously._ ”

Perry nodded absentmindedly, then shook his head realizing she wouldn’t be able to see him nodding over the phone. “Did you get a good look at him?”

“ _Somewhat. I wasn’t that close to him any point but I did see him briefly as he was saving the plane and a bit after. He’s cute_.”

“Focus, Miss Lane.”

“ _Fine. Dark hair, light skin, chiseled features…maybe six-two? Not too sure, he was up in the air most of the time. The cameras here were trained on him, didn’t they get a good shot?_ ”

“No.”

“ _Of course not_.”

“We just see him mostly from the back and a little from the side. I was hoping you’d gotten full frontal.”

“ _Interesting choice of words. Unfortunately I don’t have any pictures on my end and he left a little while ago. All I’ve got is a bunch of unanswered questions, but I guess everyone else is in the same boat. When I asked who he was, all he said was ‘a friend.’ Which was, like, endearing but also really annoying_.”

Ron chuckled. Perry leaned in over the table closer to the phone. “Okay. Anything else?” he said.

“ _Well, on the plane I saw him cover the hole in the cabin with something from the outside. Flying, obviously. Looking at it from the outside now it looks like part of the wing welded to the side of the plane to keep it in place. I have no idea how the fuck he did that. You think he carries a blowtorch around?_ ”

“Sure. Why not? That would be the least weird thing about him.”

“ _I’m going to see if I can get my bags soon. I’ll head over there and help with the changes. It’s gonna be a long night._ ”

Lois hung up, leaving the conference room staring at the phone. Perry retrieved it, wondering when people had stopped saying “bye” when hanging up. She was right, though. A story like this was front page news, especially since it happened in Metropolis. This was a game changer right in their backyard. As much work as this was going to be, it was absolutely something the Daily Planet had to capitalize on. Every other news outlet would be covering this, and getting the jump on it was essential both in print and online.

“Okay,” commanded Perry. “I’m sure all of you know what we have to do. I want all hands on deck covering this or getting information in some way, shape, or form. Interview the passengers, the pilots, the runway workers, anybody and everybody. Check social media. Talk to Boeing and LuthorCorp – it was their plane. Get the full scoop on the damage and find everything you can on this man in the sky. Let’s move.”

The room dispersed immediately and he followed them out, taking a deep breath. Perry texted his husband. He wasn’t going to make it home for dinner.


	11. Something More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of coming out. Lex and Lena have a debate.

During Faora’s interrogation of Dev-Em, Zod had headed off to question the other prisoners. Dealing with the Tamaranean went quickly and smoothly, much to his surprise. The bulky, orange-skinned prisoner was grateful at the prospect of being released, though his faculties didn’t seem to be all there. He agreed to take a pod for himself when they left the Phantom Zone immediately after it was offered. That left the Martians.

They seemed to be comrades, but not particularly close. Sy'rann and Dal'en were equally anxious to escape this dimension and did agree to depart from the ship upon release, but offered the stipulation that they would be leaving separately. It seemed Sy'rann was eager to return to Mars whereas Dal'en was not. Zod had been holding his breath with more than a little trepidation - and still was, to an extent. There was still the possibility that the current prisoners would renege on their deals, but the Martians were the only real threats. A part of Zod felt lucky that his discussion with them had gone cordially enough, but another part urged him to take that with a grain of salt.

Now, Faora stood in the doorway of the captain’s quarters, brow furrowed in equal parts contemplation and confusion. She couldn’t believe Zod had agreed to Dev’s offer. After he told her about his encounter with the Coluan – all of it this time – she couldn’t help but feel like he was being too hasty. Time was of the essence, but she was wary of Dev-Em. He did not seem like one to be easily manipulated.

Jax, of course, took the news of the new partnership horribly. General Zod put him in his place immediately, but Faora knew better than to expect Jax to be cordial and cooperative despite the general’s strictness. So for the time being Jax was in the armory, having been ordered to take stock of all weaponry and make sure everything was in good shape. He loved weapons, so it was easy to appease him in the short term. That left Faora alone with Zod.

 _ <This still troubles you? _> asked Zod in a low voice from inside the room. He sat at the edge of the cot looking up at Faora.

_ <I do not trust him, General.> _

Zod smiled. _ <I would think you foolish if you did. He is a means to an end and no match for the three of us should he endeavor in treachery. The sooner we make it to Earth, the better.> _

_ <Because of the Coluan?> _ Faora knew better than to insinuate that he was motivated by fear, but the thought did flicker across her mind. Granted, this could not have been just some average Coluan. The difference in appearance that Zod described would have probably unnerved her as well, but Faora worried about the general’s motivation. She, like him, wanted a new Krypton, made better and stronger than their flawed home. But should it come at the request of an outsider? What if following that course of action played into the Coluan’s hands and somehow left them vulnerable?

 _ <Because of Krypton, Faora.> _ Zod motioned for her to come inside. She did. _ <The Council destroyed our home in their misplaced tenacity, but we have the chance to make it anew. I will not waste it.> _

_ <Even if it’s exactly what he wants?> _

_ <We will deal with that in time. Earth will give us extraordinary abilities and have us at less of a disadvantage.> _ Zod stood up and walked closer, looking her over.

 _ <Dru…> _ Faora began. She wanted to continue but decided against it when she looked him in the eyes. There was a cold challenge mixed in with the neutral softness that was reserved only for her. Sometimes, when she was this close to him, she’d forget that he was her superior officer. He did not.

 _ <When we leave, I need you to alter the healing chambers.> _ The general explained his plans at length for what seemed like the first time, and Faora was grateful. Living her life in the military chain of command, she knew that many times leaders kept things close to the vest, as she had with her subordinates. The fact that Zod had given her the whole plan, and not just the part for which he needed her, helped to quell her uneasiness.

 _ <Can you do that for me?> _ he asked. The question held an uncharacteristic tenderness, but the command was unmistakable. 

Faora nodded. _ <Of course.> _

_ <Then we are ready.> _

The general walked across the room and retrieved the brick-like device gifted to him by the Coluan. On it were about a dozen symbols he did not recognize and only one movable part. It was a small lever that rotated inward and depressed to reveal a switch. Zod felt Faora's enraptured eyes on him, and clicked it.

*******************

The week following the miraculous save of the L707 airliner saw a steady stream of articles, social media posts, and broadcasts concerning Clark, who people called “The Flying Man.” Most mentions were of the conspiracy theory or hoax variety, especially overseas. International news outlets immediately expressed the view that the reports from witnesses in Metropolis were fake, citing the possibility of leaked Hollywood movie footage or just someone trying to “stir the pot” with doctored video. Granted, most of the footage regarding the incident wasn’t very clear, so it couldn’t be taken as concrete evidence in either direction, especially since both Luthorcorp and Boeing had declined any comments. Regardless, the story was spreading like wildfire.

Clark hadn’t made another appearance in his colorful suit since then, but was now sporting his new glasses everywhere. He’d shaped them himself from Jonathan’s old pair of glasses that Martha had kept in remembrance of him, cutting a transparent crystal from the Fortress. Most of the past week Clark spent his time blogging, writing article-style news reports and opinion pieces on mostly social justice issues. It was important to him that news was accessible to the average person, especially when large media outlets allowed significant stories to fall to the wayside. People on social media had recently started to get good at this, and the only reason Clark hadn’t hopped on that wave was to reduce his internet footprint to only a few locations. The more and more he would do as this “Flying Man” the more scrutinized he would become, and the more he put out there as Clark, the more likely something could get traced back to him as the other guy. The prospect seemed difficult. Clark had only just found the fine line, and now he would have to walk it.

Lana, on the other hand, had absolutely no problem whatsoever sharing anything that had to do with him online or on social media platforms. She didn’t have many accounts, but she had surprisingly large followings on the few that she did. Well, maybe not so surprising to her, since she knew she was decently good-looking and had a nice balance of personal photos and weird posts with witty captions. Lana wasn’t one to post often, but the rate at which she did increased considerably after her boyfriend was caught flying on camera. Shared articles and blurry pictures of him interspersed with LuthorCorp Fellowship group selfies made up her recent posts, and on the whole she was excited. She’d asked Clark if it’d be a problem to post him from time to time and he’d said it wouldn’t, so Lana capitalized. She didn’t really talk much about him, but instead let the pictures and articles do it for her.

It was a week and a half later when Clark decided that he should go out again and make an appearance. He didn’t want to seem like he was hiding, or risk the attention going away because everyone thought it was fake. There was nothing else like this to go on, so people would just assume it wasn’t real due to lack of evidence. So he put on the suit and took a day to fly casually. He’d taken the teleporter to his mother’s place and, after an impromptu knitting session at her request, flew around the metropolitan areas of Keystone City before flying over Central City. He’d made sure he was going slowly and low enough for him to be seen, but not enough to be identified.

Clark had several hours of daylight to work with, so he made his way east. He took a path through many big cities, soaring over St. Louis, Cincinnati, Washington D.C., Metropolis, Gotham City, Philadelphia, New York City, Ivy Town, and Boston. It was fun; he took pleasure in flying for the sake of flying, without worrying about if people saw him or not. Clark felt free in a way he never had before. With arms stretched out and cape flapping behind him, he was all smiles as he made his way across the country.

Naturally, he continued to be mentioned on the news and was trending on social media. If he was being honest with himself, Clark enjoyed the attention. Putting on the suit was like becoming someone new while at the same time being exactly who he always was to the fullest. Being recognized for who he was felt good.

The next few days he flew over the Atlantic and made his way over large stretches of Europe, Africa and Asia just because he could. At first, he flew with the intention of not making any direct contact with anyone but after a little while it became unavoidable. A handful of times there were problems that he felt required his immediate assistance, like fires, earthquakes and a derailed train. Clark didn’t want to insert himself too much into people’s lives too quickly, but immediate danger was where he made an exception. If he had the opportunity to save a person’s life or prevent them from getting hurt, he would take it.

Clark visited Lana her second weekend in Metropolis for a quick date, grabbing a bite to eat and then walking around midtown New Troy. Listening to Lana’s progress with the fellowship so far, Clark found it obvious that she was enjoying herself and it was exactly where she belonged. He couldn’t help the secondhand excitement.

“It’s so difficult, but so fun!” gushed Lana on their way back to her building. “We crashed a robot testing its light-sensory reaction time. Well, it was mostly Gerry but we’re a team so it’s all of us. Not to toot our own horns or anything but we did get it down to half of what it originally was. Nah, screw it. I’m totally tooting. We’re awesome!”

Clark smiled and draped an arm around her shoulders as they walked. The sidewalk was crowded but it didn’t bother them. Lana put her arm around Clark’s waist and slipped a couple of fingers in one of his belt loops.

“It’s nice being able to do a bit of everything. Lena and I have a few ideas about making firefighter uniforms lighter but more durable with all the materials in the lab. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I’m going to anyway because I’m too excited and you of all people can keep a secret. LuthorCorp actually invented this new material called Dilustel that has a super high melting point and is lighter than titanium. If we can find a cheaper way to manufacture it, then better protective gear is just the tip of the iceberg.”

Clark gave her an impressed look, intrigued. It sounded like LuthorCorp’s R&D department was a well-oiled machine. Human innovation never ceased to amaze him, even after discovering he was an alien from a planet that was thousands of years ahead of Earth in terms of technological advancement. He hadn’t yet studied Krypton’s technology at length, but he wondered what he would think if he did. Would he provide people on Earth with some of that knowledge or keep it hidden?

Getting back into Lana’s LuthorCorp apartment, the two of them found themselves alone. Lana shucked off her shoes, surprised. She hadn’t known her two roommates would be out and so had asked before she left if it was okay for her boyfriend to stop by for a bit. On the kitchen counter they found a note from Takeia.

_Shopping and catching a movie! Be back later XO_

“So we’ve got several hours till Takeia comes back,” mumbled Lana absentmindedly. That left another woman. She called into the empty expanse of the apartment. “Lena? Are you here?”

Lana didn’t receive an answer. She looked at Clark. Catching her eye, he cocked his head to the side and listened before shaking his head. Lena wasn’t in the apartment either. Lana smirked to herself, letting her mind wander over the opportunities while Clark moved to the kitchen and washed his hands. Lana followed him.

“I’m going to take a shower. I’m all sweaty,” Lana declared, peeling her top off in one smooth motion and tossing it at her boyfriend. It hit him in the face and landed right on his shoulder. He gave her a look.

She stood a few feet away from him wearing only black denim shorts, a pink bra, and a challenging expression. Her hands were on her hips. Clark smirked. “Okay, have fun.”

Lana raised an eyebrow, watching her boyfriend dry his hands and retrieve her shirt from his shoulder. “Oh, I plan to.”

Clark responded with a curious expression too open to be purely innocent. Lana nodded, smiling and turning to walk away from him.

She took a few steps and looked back over her shoulder when she reached the hall by the bathroom. “Aren’t you coming?” she called.

Clark tapped his chin, pretending to think. “Nah, I trust you to get clean on your own.”

Lana gave him a look, and then pouted dejectedly. “Fine, if you’re sure.”

For extra emphasis, she looked Clark straight in the eyes and unbuttoned her shorts. Digging her thumbs into the waistband, she slowly bent forward and slid her shorts and panties off in one full motion, never breaking eye contact. Then she rose up and unhooked her bra as well. It soon joined her shorts on the floor. Lana shook out her hair and smiled brightly. 

“Just want you to know what you’re missing out on,” she said with a voice like honey. Lana gave her boyfriend a small wave and headed back toward the bathroom.

Clark’s eyes followed every move. He’d seen Lana just like this fairly often, but he never got used to or tired of it. Clark erased the distance between them in a blink of an eye. He turned her back around to find his girlfriend wearing the smug look of all smug looks.

"Change of heart, baby?" Lana practically purred.

"I figured you could use some supervision." Clark let his fingertips glide over her hip and then brought his lips to hers. Lana pulled back after an instant.

"I specifically took my clothes off so you wouldn't have to use your _super vision_."

He gave her butt a playful smack, earning a laugh from the redhead, and joined her. 

**********************

Lena made her way to the lab on LuthorCorp Tower’s ground floor. Inside, Lex was sitting at the empty table on the far side of the room to the right, leaning forward in his seat and staring at his laptop. Behind it was a wooden chess set ready for a game.

“Have you considered taking the Luthor name yet?”

Lena pursed her lips. They’d had this talk several times but she indulged him anyway. “I thought we were trying to keep my relation to all of you a secret since it would bring bad press. Or, you know, make my life significantly harder.”

Lex smirked. “You’ve heard him a million times. ‘The only bad news is no news at all.’ And that was before, when you were younger. Now Dad endorses the idea. It would be good for you, even if Mother wouldn’t exactly approve.”

“Because I’m so interested in your mother’s approval,” replied Lena bitterly, stopping a few feet from the table. “I’ve been acutely aware of her hatred for me for years now.”

“She doesn’t hate you. It’s…more of an intense dislike.”

“Oh, well in that case…” cut Lena. Lex laughed.

“To her, you’re a constant reminder of Lionel’s infidelity. I doubt she ever really loved him, but it still stings nonetheless.”

“It’s all ego, Lex. She feels _slighted_ , not hurt. But his actions have nothing to do with me. As smart as she claims to be, you’d think she’d realize that.”

“No one ever accused her of being reasonable.”

“So forgive me if I can’t sympathize.” Lex’s expression softened. She continued. “I wonder what she’d think of her darling boy actively campaigning against her interests. You’re saying I should let Lionel publicly claim me as his daughter and then change my name to Luthor, despite what it would do to her image.”

He shrugged. “She can handle it, and you can handle her. It would be good for you.”

“And Lionel?”

“Come on, Lena. Has a famous rich man ever truly been held accountable for anything?”

He was right. She knew that. What made her hesitate to answer now was not the perusal of advantages, but confusion over Lex’s position. He loved and cared for her in his own way, she was certain of that much, but was not altruistic in nature. Everything he did, amiable or not, was calculated. He never expressed feelings without a reason. Still, a small part of Lena felt special when Lex would go out of his way for her. She wasn’t exactly used to consistent affection or care from anyone, even though Lionel did try.

But Lex was already famous as a legitimate Luthor and so had nothing to gain or lose. His relationship with his mother was vastly different from what he had with his father, yet he would bash and bolster both their reputations equally when in private with Lena. But there was a palpable split in the family. Lena knew that well. Lionel doted on her in response to Lillian's love for Lex. But in many ways Lex was a wild card.

“And what would _you_ get out of it, Lex?” Lena folded her arms unconsciously.

He paused, as if thinking of the prospect for the first time. Lena knew better, but didn’t take it to heart. “I suppose I get more company in the spotlight and in those dreadful social functions. About time, since I’ve been awfully bored without you up till now.”

Lena let out a soft airy chuckle. “I’m not one of your girlfriends, Lex. You can’t sweet-talk me that easily.”

“That’s right. You’re family. Why _wouldn’t_ I want you there?”

“‘Luthors are defined by strength and intelligence, nothing else.’ Lillian taught us that. What would she think of you playing the family card?” Lena continued to push him. If she pretended to be stoic and skeptical, maybe he’d switch up and show his hand. More than anything she hoped his regard for her as family was the same as hers for him. Lex had never let her down, but she just wasn’t sure.

Lex angled his body toward his sister and looked her in the face. “We don’t have to be like our parents, Lena. We’re better than that - better than them. You _are_ my sister, and I want you to enjoy all the perks and privileges of being a true Luthor. Money, influence...better security clearance. All of it.”

Lena perused his face. It was the same as it always was, almost enough to be considered expressive. But she trusted his eyes, which held a look only she got to see. Eventually, she smiled. “Thanks. But again, I’d like to establish myself on my own first. If I do decide to own the Luthor name, I would rather it come out afterward.”

Lex smiled crookedly. It was her favorite one, the least rehearsed. “Suit yourself.”

Lena breathed a sigh of relief and pulled up a chair. She sat next to him, turning a bit to look at what he’d paused on the laptop screen when she walked in. She side-eyed him.

“You’re watching this again?”

On the screen was the Twitter video she’d already seen three times, a man with a red cape floating in midair over a crowd of people at an airport. “Does that surprise you?” Lex answered.

“I don’t know why you keep replaying this. We both know what happened, and watching it a thousand times won’t make it any less confusing.”

Lex turned to look at her directly. His hairline was already receding and there were wrinkles around his eyes, belying his actual age. Most of the time it didn’t feel like he was eight years older than her, but at times like these Lena would notice. He answered her. “What about this is confusing to you?”

“Last time I checked people didn’t fly without the assistance of a machine,” she said.

“You’re correct, of course, but I don’t think he,” said Lex, pointing to the screen, “is a person.”

Lena got up to sit back down across from him. Lex moved the laptop out of the way and centered the chess set. White was on Lena’s side, so she moved first. “What’s he supposed to be then? An alien? A god?”

Lex rolled his eyes and moved his own piece. “Surprisingly trite, coming from you. No, but I do not think he is a person as we are. He is something…more.”

“Care to elaborate, Lex?”

They played further and the pieces became more and more spread out on the board. He continued. “Do you remember the story of Prometheus? Dad would tell it from time to time.”

“Of course,” Lena drawled, lapsing into the story. “Prometheus avoided punishment after the titans lost the war with the gods. After mankind was created, Prometheus gave them fire and taught them how to use it. Zeus expected sacrifices from man as a result, and Prometheus, bitter over the imprisonment of his family, tricked Zeus into picking an unfavorable sacrifice as the standard. So he punished mankind by taking fire away. But Prometheus loved mankind and so stole it back for them. For that, and for tricking him, Zeus forced Prometheus to endure eternal punishment by having an eagle eat his liver every day. Check.”

Lex nodded and moved his piece. “I was reminded of the story when watching the video. Mankind has always been at the mercy of the powerful, whether literally or figuratively, in life or in myth.”

“I don’t disagree,” replied Lena, eyes locked on the board. “But who is he in this scenario? Zeus or Prometheus?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it? At least it was at first. But I think it is more complicated.”

“You think it doesn’t matter. Whether he means to rule or to help, his intention doesn’t matter.”

Lex nodded. “Perceptive as always. Yes. He can be one or the other or neither, and it would never change the fact that all of mankind is at his mercy. And there is nothing we can do about it. Check.”

Lena stopped and eyed the board, thinking ahead the next few moves. “We know nothing about him. It’s shortsighted to make such an assessment without more evidence. He only seems so powerful because he can do things others can’t. It’s a game changer, sure, but not the end of the world just yet. We need more data. But he’s a person, no matter his origins, and the fact that he can fly and carry a plane doesn’t change that. We need to treat him like any other high-value human unknown: figure out who he is, what he wants, and why he does what he does. Even if he’s something that can’t be classified right now, it’s very unlikely that scientific discipline would be unable to explain his existence to some degree. I think you got too swept up in what he can do and inadvertently put him on a pedestal.”

“I suppose anything’s possible no matter how improbable it may sound,” Lex responded with amusement in his voice. Lena gave him a look. “But you’re regarding this in the context of him as a singularity. He may be his own individual person, but he is also a new phenomenon. He’s the first of his kind, but I guarantee he won’t be the last.”

Lena nodded and reassessed the board in front of her. “You want to figure out the extent of his abilities and limitations so that we as a civilization -”

“-as a species,” Lex interjected. Lena fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“-can prepare for others like him. So we know what to expect.”

“Precisely. And maybe even replicate it, eventually.”

Lena should have known. Of course Lex wanted that power for himself. Of all the Luthors, Lex was most prone to grandiose ideas. Lena couldn’t empathize, but she understood the appeal. The Flying Man looked like he could do anything. Who wouldn’t want to feel the same?

Lena sighed. “Whether we regard him as merely a threat or as much as a catalyst for human evolution, we have to determine who he is before we define what he is. As perplexing as the latter may seem right now, it wouldn’t matter as much as the former even if he turned out to be more powerful than we already think he is.”

“Interesting notion. Why?” asked Lex, looking directly at Lena now. She moved and met his eyes.

“Because knowing what a person _can_ do is less informative than knowing what a person _would_ do. Especially when that person currently has the advantage.”

“And do you think we’ll be able to trust whatever we find out? None of us will ever truly know him.” Lex eyed the board, cupping his chin. After a moment, he moved.

Lena took her turn immediately after. “That remains to be seen. You’re treating him like a higher being. He could just be another one of us.”

“If he isn’t?”

Lena smiled softly and answered in a low voice, moving her piece. “You’re still focusing on the _what_ , Lex. Checkmate.”


	12. Selfish and Selfless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussion, reflection, and bad, bad dreams.

Clark woke up slowly, hair rumpled and body completely relaxed. It took him a moment to figure out where he was, but after sitting up in bed, Lana’s bedroom came into view. Contrary to expectation, she wasn’t lying next to him. She wasn’t even in the room. Judging by the amount of light coming through the window, it was still late afternoon. They hadn’t napped for long. Clark closed his eyes and listened. He picked up Lana’s heartbeat and got up, following the sound. He found her in the kitchen.

Lana was leaning against the counter with a glass of water, staring blankly into the sink. Clark could hear her heart thumping wildly in her chest and her breath coming out in short, shaky gasps. Her grip was tight on the glass as she raised it and took a few gulps.

“What happened?” asked Clark softly, stopping a foot away from her. She looked up at him with tired eyes, wet and red above tear-stained cheeks. Her voice came out much stronger and clearer than he expected.

“Bad dream. Dad, he…” Lana took a deep breath and shook her head. “Forget it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Clark nodded. Reaching out, he put a hand on her arm. Lana was wearing her Central City University t-shirt, now damp from sweat and a little water she’d spilled while drinking. She didn’t seem to care much. “What do you need?”

Lana drained her glass and left it in the sink. She didn’t meet his eyes. “Hold me?”

She didn’t wait for him to answer. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so she clawed lightly at his sides and pulled him to her. Clark wrapped his arms around her as she did the same, but it wasn’t enough for her. Lana squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force the dream to go away.

“More,” she whispered, squeezing him.

Clark tightened his hold on her and she nodded against him. Lana hated feeling like this, like she’d been spending all her energy running toward something only to realize she’d never actually gone anywhere. One bad dream and she was a crying, shivering mess. She’d woken up feeling trapped, suffocated by how warm Clark was. Bolting out of bed, Lana spiraled with the fresh memory of her nightmare and now guilt at needing to be away from him for a while. It had nothing to do with him, but it made her feel worse nonetheless. Had Clark been awake he would have wanted to help any way he could, and it would hurt him to realize that he couldn’t. 

Lana had made a beeline to the kitchen and sat on the tiled floor before folding her knees up and sobbing as quietly as she could. She didn’t want to wake him. Why would she? Lana couldn’t begin to explain everything that happened or anything she felt. She never told him how bad it got back home before she graduated high school. His parents had only heard anything secondhand, and the one time Clark noticed a bruise she’d made him swear on their friendship he wouldn’t say a word.

It was the only time they’d ever argued. He was angry, even close to tears, but she’d made him promise. Lana wasn’t even sure why. She loved that he’d had the reaction he did; Lana desperately wanted him to storm off and go through with what he’d wanted to do. But she told him not to anyway. The promise had two conditions: that he’d never tell or imply that anything was wrong to anyone, and that he wouldn’t do anything about it himself. Sitting there now on the kitchen floor, she cried harder knowing he’d kept his promise.

But Lana was certain he wouldn’t have promised if he’d known everything. Clark’s need to keep her safe was too strong. So she hadn’t told him how her father had almost killed her mother once, or how her mother had kicked her out when Lana mentioned that one of her friends identified as trans. Lana certainly hadn’t mentioned the night she was locked in the storm cellar. This last one had been the template of her nightmare, mixing memory with fiction. Holding onto Clark, she steeled herself, jaw clenched in anger at her own brain for sending her spiraling in a muddle of fear and hatred. Once she’d calmed down enough, Lana actually wanted him there. Of course, that’s when he showed up.

Eventually she calmed down, gradually loosening her grip on him until she felt strong enough to let go. Lana saw the conflict in Clark’s eyes. Knowing him, he was worried and he wasn’t sure what to do. She pulled him down and kissed him softly.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Slipping her hand into his and holding tightly, Lana led him back to her room. She kissed the back of his hand and pulled him back to bed with her so she could settle in with her head on his chest. His heart was beating slowly and steadily, and she stayed silent listening to it. Clark didn’t speak.

Lana thought about her father and people like him. She thought about her mother, poster woman for being both victim and oppressor. Wrongdoing could be so complicated. Lana did her best to simplify it, making her own code as easy to follow as possible. Good intentions and good actions together – anything else wasn’t good enough. But it was so difficult. Sometimes you can’t tell a bad action from a good one until after it’s done. Sometimes the bad seems worth it as long as it produces a good outcome.

Lana considered her place in LuthorCorp. Every billion-dollar corporation she’d heard of had gotten to or stayed where it was because it exploited people on a large scale. She knew that the executives at LuthorCorp had to have done the same. Despite her disapproval, however, Lana still chose to be involved with them because of what it could do for her. Did that make her complicit, just as bad as those of whom she disapproved even if in their shoes she would have done differently? Or was she immune to blame, because she didn’t have their power and therefore couldn’t truly affect anything on her own? Lana wanted to be a good person, but the possibility of becoming just like those executives didn’t seem too far off. The allure of power and influence was strong, and that scared her. 

Lana knew she was self-centered, and why wouldn’t she be? It always seemed more acceptable to the world to do things for oneself than to care about other people. So many did whatever they wanted as long as the consequences didn’t affect them. Lana was a victim of such ideology, the collateral damage when people in her life couldn’t be bothered to care. Why couldn’t she just look out for herself and do the same?

Lana wished it would be guilt from doing wrong, but she knew better. It was because of Clark. If she acted as selfishly as she craved he would see her as less, and she couldn’t entertain that possibility. The risk was too high, and so was his moral standard. The more she disregarded others the more he’d stop looking at her like she put the stars he loved so much in the sky. Nobody else looked at her like that. She would never give that up.

But Lana was afraid she was being selfish with Clark. She loved how much he valued her and worked to prove him right, and yet she knew it would take a long time for her to change into the person he already thought she was. He wore rose-colored glasses and Lana prayed he wouldn't take them off. But a part of her was terrified she’d fall complacent in her selfishness. _Maybe I should break up with him_ , she thought. _It would be better for him in the long run.._.

Lana knew she was improving. There was palpable evidence. But she didn’t feel like a good person. Doing the right thing and feeling the right way wouldn’t be so difficult if she were. Lana wished there was a way to be sure, a way to always know. She wished that it was easy. She wished she could prevent all the bad that was going to happen, for her and for everyone else. But she was just one person who had neither power nor influence. She was only human.

And that’s what made her feel the worst, now lying in bed next to him. Clark, at his core, wanted what she wanted and had the power to make it happen. She thought it would be perfect, something that would bring them together, and yet she held a pit in her stomach. Lana never told him (probably because she hadn’t been honest with herself), but she wasn’t truly comfortable with him in the spotlight. There was something about being one of the few who knew about Clark’s powers that made her feel special, and even though he was building another persona for the public, Lana knew it meant sharing him and losing that exclusivity. Every time he left to fly around felt like a step further away from her. It hurt, but she could never ask him to stop. It wouldn't be fair.

“Do you ever think about stopping people from doing the wrong thing?” Lana asked quietly, looking up at his face. “Making sure bad people don’t do bad things.”

Clark stared up at the ceiling. "I can't make anyone's decisions for them, Lana."

“But you have the power to protect people from other people. When you go flying around…most of the time it’s natural disasters or accidents, but do you ever save people from danger, when another person is the immediate cause?” Clark sighed, hesitating. Lana prompted more. “I've never heard you talk about cases like that.”

Clark closed his eyes and let his head drop back down to the pillow. Normally when flying around he looked for big forms of danger that people couldn’t easily get themselves out of, but he hadn’t really made an effort to help individual would-be victims on a case-by-case basis. If he stumbled upon those kinds of scenarios, he did what he could. Ignoring them would always be wrong, so he had to, but nothing beyond that.

“It happens, but not often,” said Clark. “It’s not something I actively look for.”

Lana’s voice was almost a whisper. “Why not?”

Clark took a deep breath and continued to stare at the ceiling. “The more I meddle and the more I use force, the less I’ll be trusted. It’s the police’s business to stop victim-oriented crimes, and there’s a reason people don’t trust them.”

“All the better reason for you to get in the middle on an individual basis,” said Lana. “ _You_ won’t hurt people or abuse your power. Keep helping civilians without hurting them, and they’ll love you. And the fact that there’s only one of you makes you more trustworthy. There’d be no wondering whether the person coming to help them is actually good or not.”

In truth, fighting crime was the first thing Clark thought of when deciding to go home and start on this path. It was evident that law enforcement didn’t do what they were supposed to, but still he was hesitant to take the law into his own hands on a regular basis. 

“I agree, especially when it comes to immediate danger,” said Clark, sitting up. “But what about those who do things that only hurt themselves, or are destructive in ways that don’t hurt others? Vandalism, drug use...what do you think I should do then?”

Clark looked at Lana and could tell she was avoiding his gaze. He thought about the difference between law and morality and how their goals sometimes opposed one another. He wondered if Lana was thinking the same.

“I don’t know,” Lana said finally. “Your goal is to help people, right? Not uphold the law. It’s not great advice, but I’d say do whatever you think is best in the moment. I know you’ll always make the right call.”

Clark understood why Lana had started this conversation. His goals were about people, on both an individual and collective scale. Coming from a place of personal experience, she was trying to make sure he didn’t forget the former while focusing on the latter. But still he worried.

"What if it goes wrong? I don't want to insert myself too much and risk enduring the push-back. If the world doesn't respond to me with trust, they _will_ respond to me with fear. The implications of that alone are terrifying. I'll be labeled as dangerous, and it'll give others the excuse to give that label to anyone different too. Not just other humans but possible aliens too. There's got to be others here besides me. Me being the only one seems unlikely."

Lana nodded slowly and then smirked at him. "Then...don't do anything scary or intense."

"I have, like, ten different super powers, Lana."

"Only half of them have physical effects on the environment so only those count as being able to scare people." Lana was using her science-y voice that Clark liked. She snuggled closer to him and kissed his shoulder. "You're thinking too much like an alien, babe. Just be your normal, fun, chipper self. Most of the work is already done for you."

"What do you mean?" Clark asked, brow creasing.

Lana looked up at him. "You look like any unassuming white guy. And you're fucking gorgeous. Pretty as hell. A bona fide cutie-patootie. A beautiful male specimen-"

"Okay, I get it," Clark chuckled, nudging his girlfriend.

"The whole world's basically made so you're the easiest to trust. All you have to do is not fuck it up."

Lana kissed him softly and reassumed her position at his side. The juxtaposition of her nonchalance against her recognition of the gravity of the matter did wonders to ease his mind. Not for the first time, Clark was overwhelmed with gratitude and appreciation for her place in his life. However, Lana's current attitude differed greatly from how he'd found her after waking up, and he was still worried about her. But he didn't want to ruin the mood, so he didn't push it. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. “I’ve been so preoccupied with thinking ahead, with the big picture, that I almost forgot it’s all made up of small parts. The world is one thing but every single person, every single life is a little world of its own too.”

Lana nodded, giving him a small smile. “We're going to need you for the big stuff, and I know you can't come out as this powerful figure bent on controlling everything, but...don’t be afraid to get down on the ground with us either.”

People were often too preoccupied with their own lives to notice when others needed them. Lana wanted him to be the person who noticed, listen for anyone and everyone, because he was the only one who could.

Lana knew Clark could pick up on the fact that it was personal for her, and she was grateful he didn’t mention it. She sighed contentedly at the ease with which Clark had responded. The subject was heavier and she’d felt more uptight than her tone had suggested, but he addressed it with the gravity it needed. Lana hadn’t expected Clark to admit his faults so quickly. People didn’t normally do that. She sure as hell didn’t, at least not out loud. He’d have to teach her that one day.

“I love you,” she whispered, looking at his face. “You know that, right?”

Clark held an odd look. “I…do now?”

Lana laughed and kissed him twice quickly. 

“I love you too, by the way,” he said.

“Of course you do,” Lana breathed, rolling over. She was smirking, like always, but also blushing in the golden light of the sunset streaming from the windows. Hearing the words made her feel fuzzy. She needed them. “I mean, have you met me? How could you not?”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Way to cheapen the moment.”

“Confidence does not cheapen anything,” said Lana, swatting his arm. “In fact, it does the opposite. It…what’s the opposite of ‘cheapen?’”

Clark thought for a moment. “Um…bolster? Enhance? Augment? Upraise?”

Lana stretched out on the bed, taking up much more space than she needed and pushing against her boyfriend playfully. “Yeah, that.”

Clark rolled over onto his side and pulled Lana to face him. They were only a few inches apart now, and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead. She snuggled in closer to him and stayed that way for a while, basking in the silence diminished only by the pang in her heart.


	13. In Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark gets on the ground, and formally meets one Lois Lane.

Clark was a person who naturally fell into routine, so that’s exactly what happened after making his costumed fly-overs an everyday thing. After his conversation with Lana, he’d gotten into the habit of flying high above the clouds and extending his hearing range as far as he could. That way, he could sift through as much noise as possible to determine where his help was needed most. The first time he did it, he’d gotten overwhelmed and had to fly into the mesosphere before calming enough to focus. It reminded him of the first time he’d discovered his enhanced hearing when he was in high school. Jonathan had let him take a day off from school and helped him focus enough to control it and relax enough to ignore the sounds that were far away.

Now, true to his word, he’d taken to protecting people from a variety of crimes as well as other forms of danger. Most of the time he ended up stopping robberies, occasionally talking to the perpetrators and getting them to desist. That was always his main goal, but usually they refused to talk and just attacked. Clark had to be vigilant and reactive at all times so nobody got hurt. One way to make sure was to catch all bullets so none of them would ricochet. He’d neglected to do this the first time, and the bullets had bounced right off him and caused significant damage to the inside of the bank. Clark made sure to dodge punches, kicks, and tackles as well, so criminals wouldn’t hurt themselves. His go-to move was to tie the perps up with the retractable tape from the stanchions in a store or bank and leave the robbers for the cops to find.

Even though he’d spent a lot of time in other countries, most of Clark’s time dealing with crime was spent in the United States. As a result, people around the States had started to accept him as a real person and would recognize him periodically. Knowing this actually made Clark a bit more comfortable and even though he’d never talk at length, occasionally he’d stop and greet people.

As the summer got into full swing, Lana, Clark and even Martha got busier. Martha had taken up volunteering at a homeless shelter in Keystone City through the Kansas Department of Children and Families. She spent a few days there every week, helping to look after homeless kids, runaways, and even whole families who had no other options. Having been inspired and nudged into action by hearing about her son on the news from time to time, Martha had decided that her time could be spent proactively instead of reactively like when she was Smallville’s sheriff. Being in law enforcement often meant reacting to problems and cleaning up the mess (while trying to keep her subordinates in line and actually doing their jobs), but working at the shelter meant she could help people in their hardships and prevent something even worse from happening.

Lana was in the back half of her fellowship, and the entire group of fellows was assisting with a project concerning aircraft safety mechanisms. Lana considered herself lucky that she had specifically dealt with aircraft energy systems when working on her Master’s degree, because a few of the other fellows were stressed with being thrown into a project with not much experience. She ended up taking the lead in assisting. Lana particularly enjoyed working with Lena who, even though she had a degree in Robotics, showed that she was also knowledgeable in a great deal of other scientific disciplines and was a quick study as well.

Because of Lana’s busy schedule and Clark’s activities, they’d seen less of each other as the year fell into July. Clark busied himself in the Fortress in his down time, furthering his studies in Kryptonian culture and scientific discipline. It was mind-boggling how rudimentary human technology was compared to Krypton’s. Clark had a lot to catch up on, and it wasn’t easy. He enjoyed learning, if at his leisure, but he’d never focused on the sciences much after high school and so was already at a disadvantage from human standards. Kelex was a big help, though.

After one particularly long lesson, Clark took a break and had Kelex run the capabilities of his suit by him again. He was sure there were more intricate features involved since Kelex had made it to Kryptonian standard. It was durable despite being incredibly thin, but not as durable as Clark himself was. Resistant against extreme temperatures, friction, tension, and blunt force, the suit held up best against the former two. It was insulated and offered protection against high voltages, but if bombarded with enough force, it could be damaged or pierced despite its threshold. Lastly, the suit could only protect against a finite amount of ionizing radiation. Since Kryptonians were genetically engineered to be able to absorb non-ionizing radiation from Rao, the suit was designed to be passive in this regard. On an unrelated note, the boots and cape, though connected to the bodysuit, were detachable.

Clark had only gone out flying after grabbing the uniform from the Fortress, but he knew he’d eventually have to carry it with him indefinitely at some point. One day, and soon, he’d end up in a situation where he wasn’t in his suit and he’d need to change quickly. So as practice, he decided to devise ways of concealing it and carrying it. The material itself, including the cape, was stretchy and flexible while also compressible, so hiding it wouldn’t be the problem. The issue was what he would do with his normal clothes.

After different trials and outfits, Clark determined that the costume, being comfortable and skintight, would easily fit under any of his clothes (assuming he was wearing long pants and sleeves). Luckily for him, his body was thermo-regulated so well that we wouldn’t get cold or hot no matter what he wore. His civilian clothes, he guessed, would have to be hidden somewhere nearby. Clark shrugged. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it; this was the sort of thing that required trial and error.

Clark was in the mood for a gyro and so headed to Metropolis. Spending so much time there with Lana the past few months, he’d found an older Pakistani man working a cart on a street corner by the Metropolis Museum of Art. His gyros were the best by far, and he was always there late at night. This night, July 4 th , was no different.

There were a lot of people around. Clark had changed into street clothes on top of a building and then traveled down the fire escape into an alley before making his way to his favorite cart guy. There was surprisingly no line, and Clark greeted the man in Urdu like always. The man boomed a laugh.

“How many times I tell you? I’m working on English, my friend! How can I get better if you speak Urdu?”

“All right, all right,” Clark smiled. “How’s it going, Nasim?”

“Fantastic! Everyone is drinking and celebrating. When they drink, they get hungry. I get a lot of business later tonight. The usual for you?”

“Yep, and a can of ginger ale, please.”

Nasim went to work, chatting amiably with Clark all the while. It didn’t take long, and in a few minutes Clark was paying and heading down the street. His aim was just to take a leisurely walk, enjoying the city at night and eating his gyro, and that’s exactly what he did. The museum was closed by this time, but further downtown were bars, clubs, restaurants and movie theaters that were packed with people. Clark could hear fireworks in the distance behind the din of the young-adult summer night scene. People didn’t do much of that in the city, but the suburbs across the rivers were a riot. The whole thing was surreal for him. It was like being in the eye of an American hurricane.

As soon as Clark had finished eating, he heard something odd coming from far away. Normally, nightclubs always held this sort of light, raucous noise late at night – mostly music, laughter and aimless chatter. This time it sounded more like angry buzzing, as if a beehive had been knocked over. Slowing down and listening in, Clark determined that a fight had broken out earlier and the perpetrators (two men who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves) were arrested. The commotion hadn’t died down since then, and Clark absentmindedly drifted toward the source of the sound as he walked. Most of the chatter came from female voices, but there were angry male voices in the mix as well. Those he could hear more clearly, so he figured they weren’t inside the club. Clark was getting close now; the venue couldn’t be more than a few blocks away. One conversation stood out to him.

“I can’t believe that bitch got him arrested. What were the cops even doing there anyway?”

“I don't know, man. It's fucked up. She was messing with him all night and as soon as she sees a Blue she bolts?”

“Right? I mean, why be all touchy and dance-y if she didn’t want him? And in that skimpy little thing too.”

“They're kicking everybody out. What the hell hap- wait, there she is.”

Clark stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the sidewalk, listening acutely. His eyes were unfocused and his whole body was tense. He couldn’t tell who those guys were talking about, but it didn’t bode well. For a moment there was nothing to go on, no sound to give him a clear picture. Then he’d heard a soft cry of fear even further away, and more from the same voices as before. Clark moved.

He was angry. His suit was under his clothes for the first time, and he bitterly cursed the fact that he’d been right so soon. Clark shed his clothes and glasses with increasing speed, leaving them bunched in an alleyway under a milk crate behind a dumpster full of cardboard boxes. Taking off straight up out of the space between two buildings, he followed the sound and ended up in an even narrower alley. There was almost no light, and part of it was blocked off by fencing in the middle. The path had an inlet off to the side just before the fence, and that’s where Clark found them. He could faintly hear the music from the club a block away. It was loud but drowned out by a small thud, an even smaller cry, and the terrified heartbeat of the woman getting backed into a corner.

One of the men had grabbed her and was holding her in place with most of his body, telling her not to make a sound. He was of average height and build, with a balding head and five o’clock shadow. Very obviously drunk. The other one, tall and lanky, peeked back into the alley as a lookout and was met by a furious Clark floating a few feet away. Jaw clenched and brow creased, he looked between the two men. The only reason he hadn’t already acted was that he was so angry he didn’t trust himself not to break them if he moved. The lookout had gone silent with wide eyes, mouth gaping in disbelief.

"You're gonna get Danny out of this mess if you know what's good for you. It was all just a misunderstanding, wasn't it? _Wasn't it_?"

Clark drew a breath and spoke.

“Stop,” he commanded loudly. The other man and the woman looked at him immediately, and he heard the man curse under his breath. The inlet was awash in a low red light, and only then did Clark realize that his own eyes were glowing. He blinked them back to normal, darkening the alley once more. “Back away from her, and I won’t hurt you.”

The lookout backed up into the fence, looking to put distance between himself and the floating figure in front of him but not being able to do much. The first man was much bolder. “Beat it, buddy. This ain’t got nothing to do with you.”

He hadn't yet taken a look at Clark, too preoccupied. The young woman, however, stared at him with pleading eyes that held their own form of uncertainty. She must've been afraid of him too. Clark moved faster, coming to grab his arm and yanked him away and behind him, almost into his friend. “I wasn’t asking.”

Clark angled himself so that the woman was at his back. She hadn’t said one word since he showed up, but her breathing had slowed. The first man was holding his own arm and the second man was tugging at the other, telling him to run. “It’s  _ him _ . We need to go!”

He didn’t listen. Instead, he moved forward and swung at Clark with his good arm. Normally, Clark would dodge for the aggressor’s sake, but this time he made no effort to move at all. He was sure that he’d bruised the man badly when pulling him, but he knew this would be worse. And it was.

The man screamed in pain as his fist collided with Clark’s cheek. An audible crunching sound filled the air, and Clark could hear that even the woman behind him gasped and flinched. “You should've listened to your friend,” said Clark, his eyes now back to normal.

This time the man relented, and the two attackers staggered off down the alley and back onto the street. Clark took a deep breath and turned around to face the woman, who looked like she had shrunk herself in the corner to take up as little space as possible.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, keeping a little distance between them. “Did they hurt you?”

She looked at him and shook her head slowly, shrinking further. “No. You got here before…”

Clark stepped back into the alley proper, watching her unfurl herself and giving her space to come out of the inlet. She did. 

"You're him," she said slowly. "The guy on the news. The one who saves people."

The low light illuminated her blonde hair and her face, showing smudged makeup and a couple of scratches. He wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“I...do what I can. Do you want to go to the police?” he asked.

“That's what got me into this mess in the first place," she whispered, avoiding his eyes.

Clark nodded awkwardly. A moment of silence passed between them. "What happened?"

She shrugged. "Went out with a friend, drank some. I danced with this guy I thought was cute. He was a good dancer. But he got all weird so I tried to leave, but he followed me into the bathroom. He got...rough...so I punched him. Kneed him too. Saw a bunch of cops when I came out, probably a drug thing, and I told them. They found him still in the ladies room. I didn't realize he had friends, though."

Clark nodded. "Where's your friend?"

The blonde woman looked at him fully in the face for the first time. "Beats me. I couldn't find her when I was leaving. To be honest, she's not really my friend."

Another awkward silence ensued. The only sounds that filled the air were the hums of passing cars and the squeaks of the occasional rodent.

“You've probably had enough of strangers tonight, but…I could fly you home, if you'd like.”

The woman in front of him took a deep breath, fidgeting a little. She wouldn't meet his eyes again. “Um...I think I'll walk. It's not far.”

"Okay."

She gave him a small smile and nudged past him toward the alley entrance. Before turning out onto the side walk she looked back at him. "Thank you, by the way."

Clark nodded and waved in response.

Checking by the dumpster in the other alley, Clark came to find that the milk crate was still there but not his clothes. Clark heaved a heavy sigh and stood otherwise motionless in the alley. 

"This night could certainly be better," he muttered to himself. He looked around, x-raying the debris strewn across the concrete to make sure his clothes just hadn't been moved. They were nowhere to be seen, to his dismay, but to his surprise he did find his wallet. Tossed haphazardly behind the dumpster, it was completely intact. Clark retrieved it and checked inside. His pictures, bank cards, and IDs were all still there, but the cash he'd had was gone. Clark considered himself lucky and even smiled, tucking his wallet into one of the pockets secured on his lower back. His phone was in the other one, and he was glad he'd gotten into the habit of always keeping it with him. He pulled it out and checked the time: 10:48.

Clark took to the sky for some leisurely flying, but g liding over the Metropolis skyline didn’t calm him like it usually did. He couldn't escape his own brain. The earlier incident had left him uneasy despite the favorable outcome. Luckily, he hadn’t discerned any more situations that needed immediate attention. A bitter taste still stung in his mouth. Going forward, he would have to deal with worse people and worse crimes than he encountered earlier, and that was something to which he was not looking forward.

Losing his clothes was a bummer too, but it could've been worse. Clark figured whoever was desperate enough to take his cash and his clothes but leave his wallet definitely needed them more than he did, so he no longer minded. He just wished he'd seen who it was. Then he would've been able to help more.

Clark continued to fly, and took his time. Human speed was his default, and sometimes it was mentally draining to do things at higher speeds for extended periods of time. He cruised over New Troy, high enough to admire the view but low enough that he was still below the clouds.

“Hey!”

Clark’s brow furrowed. He’d been periodically checking in on the sounds of the city, but that sounded off.

“HEY!”

He slowed to a stop, floating directly above the street with his head cocked to the side. It sounded a lot closer that time. Clark looked below and ahead of him, but saw nobody who seemed to know he was there.

“Over here!”

Clark whirled around and finally caught the source of the sound. He hadn’t realized it, but he had just passed the Daily Planet building, level with the giant golden rotating globe at the top. On the roof was a woman, staring at him and waving. She had an expectant look on her face, as if to say “ _ well what are you waiting for? I don’t have all night _ .”

She was standing in the middle of the smooth expanse of the roof, far away from any edge. Clark drifted over and stopped to hover a few yards away from her. Black hair blew into her face with the breeze, and she tried to flick it out of her eyes to no avail. She stared thoughtfully, pulling a hair tie from her wrist and tying her hair back in a ponytail. Floating several inches off the ground with his cape flapping lightly in the wind, Clark waited patiently. Finally, she spoke.

“You’re bigger than I remember.”

Clark squinted in confusion. Having been surprised at the voice directed at him, he hadn’t noticed much of her appearance at first. He paid attention to her face, now fully exposed, and felt a pang of familiarity.

“You were on the plane,” said Clark, cocking his head to the side. “The L707.”

“Totally was, yeah,” she said. “Thanks for the save, by the way. Much appreciated, since I value my life.”

Clark smirked. “You’re welcome.”

“You’re more scowl-y than I remember, too. Something got you in a bad mood?”

Clark hadn’t even been aware of the tension in his face. He relaxed at her words and shook his head. “Everything's fine.”

“If you say so,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you’d stop, just now. Kind of figured you’d just,” (she made a stretching gesture with her hand, like a plane taking off) “fly away.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not in any rush. And now you have my attention, Miss…”

“Lane. Lois Lane.”

Clark nodded. “You’re a reporter for the Daily Planet.”

“That’s correct,” she replied with a hint of a smile. She took a chance. “I don’t suppose you’d do an interview, huh?”

“I…will have to respectfully decline at this time,” said Clark slowly, eyes darting away from her for a moment. Lois laughed. Another barrage of fireworks in the distance caught Clark’s eye. “What are you doing here so late on a holiday? It’s got to be almost midnight.”

“Working.” Lois received only a quizzically raised eyebrow as an answer. She continued. “This is one of my least favorite holidays anyway and it’s not like I got invited to any barbecues. Nothing else to do.”

“You’d rather spend a Friday night at work than at home?” Clark asked, his confused expression deepening.

“What’s with the interrogation? I'm the reporter here.” Lois’s expression was devoid of emotion but her tone was much more playful than her words would have implied.

“Sorry,” relented Clark. “It’s just a little out of the ordinary is all.”

Lois chuckled, raising her eyebrows. “You’re a guy who can literally fly without any type of assistance and chooses to do so in a bright costume and _I’m_ out of the ordinary?”

Clark laughed with her. “Okay. You’ve got a point.”

She gave him a look of mild satisfaction. “Speaking of, what’s with this outfit? Trying to make a fashion statement? And what does the ‘S’ stand for?”

“It’s not an ‘S,’” replied Clark, looking down at himself.

“It’s an ‘S,’ but anywho, I’ve got a few questions since the incident. Some answers would help give me peace of mind – off the record. I promise I don’t have my tape recorder with me. I just came up here for a smoke break.”

Lois pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of her back pocket for emphasis. Clark noticed she was in casual (and stylish) clothing this time.

“You know, you really shouldn’t smoke, Miss Lane.”

She sighed, casting her eyes down for a second. “Yeah. Bad habit I picked up from daddy dearest. That and being a workaholic, as you can see. Lucy always scolds me for it. She’s my little sister.”

“Sounds like she cares about you,” said Clark. Lois snorted.

“More like she finally has something to be on her high horse about. She’s the wild one, not me.” Lois watched as Clark touched down on the ground. He gave her a small smile. “Anyway…I asked you this last time but you didn’t really give an answer. Who are you? And if you call yourself a friend again I swear to God I’ll kick your ass. I don’t care how many planes you can lift.”

Clark shook his head, smiling. She reminded him of Lana, but a bit more brazen.

“I’m just someone who wants to help,” said Clark, taking a couple of steps forward.

Lois’s face softened in a mix of sympathy and impatience. “Mind explaining a bit further there, Tinkerbell?”

Clark gave her a look. Lois smiled sweetly. 

“People can only do so much. Even those that have the desire to make the world better or just make another person’s day a little brighter have a limit to what they can accomplish day to day. But with all the abilities I have…I can do so much more. And since I can, I feel like I have this responsibility to do so.”

Lois took in his response, staring blankly at him. She didn’t expect that. "And what are your abilities?"

Clark didn't answer. Lois sighed impatiently.

“You’re not kidding at all, are you?” She saw Clark shake his head and gave him an enigmatic look. Lois had only been a reporter for a couple years, but her instincts were as good as any veteran’s. Her gut was always right, and she’d had enough experience to know her innate cynicism was warranted. However, her gut wasn’t telling her anything bad now. In fact, it wasn’t telling her anything at all. That was new. “If you’re telling the truth, that’s very admirable. The Boy Scouts would love you.”

Clark gave her a bashful look. He wasn’t sure how to respond. Lois looked like she had more on her mind, but wanted to choose her words carefully. It made Clark curious. He didn’t normally see a clear juxtaposition between control and impulsiveness in a person. She was fighting the urge to do something. Clark wondered what it was.

“I’ve, uh, been in danger more times than I can count but being on that plane when it was falling…that was the first time I ever really thought I was gonna die.” Lois watched Clark’s face soften into a passively patient expression. “I’m just baffled – and a little terrified – by how lucky it was that you decided to save me and everyone on it on a whim.”

“They aren’t just whims. I couldn’t just let you all die. If someone else had been in my position, wouldn’t they have done the same?”

The certainty with which he’d said that was mind-boggling. Lois knew that in reality the chances of that would be fifty-fifty at best, but for some reason she couldn’t find the words to tell him. “I guess so.”

Clark smiled widely, and Lois found that she couldn’t stop herself from doing the same. They stayed like that, looking at each other until Lois felt a nervous flutter in her stomach.

“So, um…thank you for doing what you do,” she said with a shaky laugh. He nodded.

“You’re welcome, Lois.”

“Still a no on that interview?”

“Afraid so."

Lois sighed heavily, folding her arms. “You’re not the most forthcoming person, it seems.”

Clark cocked his head, peering at her. “Are you?”

“…no,” Lois answered begrudgingly, narrowing her eyes. Clark laughed. Lois took a step toward him. “But I’m not the big unknown here. You are. The world wants to know more about you. Most of the world doesn’t even know I exist.”

“It’s too early for that. You’ll get to know more when the time is right.”

“And when will that be?” asked Lois. She only received a patient expression in response. Her breath came out in a huff. “Okay. Then will I be seeing you again?”

Clark shrugged. “Sure. I’ll be flying around Metropolis every now and then. All you’ll have to do is look up.”

Lois pursed her lips. That wasn’t what she’d meant. “Right.”

Clark took his phone out, the small device vibrating in his hand. Lois quickly retrieved her own, swiping frantically on the screen. She watched his face flicker with expression as he pocketed it again and surreptitiously aimed at him. 

"Good to know you have a cell phone. Mind giving me your number?" said Lois. Clark gave her a small, closed-mouth smile and then shook his head.

"You're very persistent, I'll give you that," he said, angling away from her. "Must be a good reporter."

Lois smiled back. "You're not wrong."

Clark floated up a bit, catching the wind. His cape flapped behind him. “Well, I’ll let you get back to whatever you were working on, even though you should probably go home and sleep.”

Lois nodded awkwardly, watching him gain height.

“Good night, Lois,” he called, giving her a wave.

She waved back. "Good night."

Lois watched him fly away in awe, marveling at the casual display of power. He was a mystery and she desperately wanted to get to the bottom of it, if not for reporter's sake then for herself. She was intrigued by him-how could she not be? They guy could _fly_ , and was just odd enough to be interesting. Lois looked at her phone and smiled, the picture she'd furtively snapped on display.

********************

Lena was never fond of Luthor family breakfasts. Granted she hadn’t participated often, having been in the care of a nanny and then in boarding schools since being adopted. Lena hadn’t been adopted by the Luthors outright, but by a “friend” of whom she never saw much even as a little girl. Coming into a new family at four years old after her mother died was daunting, but Lena considered herself lucky that she had been too young to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation. Most of her childhood was spent with Raisa, her nanny, and with Lex, so it wasn’t until her pre-teen years that she’d started to get much attention from Lionel and Lillian (good and bad). Even then, it was only in private. In public, she was still Lena Mercer and relatively unknown in most situations. If she saw the Luthors at all, it was usually at a place they owned but didn’t frequent. Lex had taken on the big brother role when he could and, like now, provided a buffer between her and Lillian. He wasn’t an aggressive defender, but Lena still felt more protected whenever he was around.

The four Luthors sat around a small yet ornate square table. Lionel, always one to keep up appearances, made conversation. Lex, of course, contributed seamlessly. Lena always envied Lex’s ability to tailor himself to any situation, but was also put off by it. It was a skill taught by Lillian, though because of her current power and influence she rarely used it anymore. She and Lionel both made a point to make sure Lex and Lena (respectively) learned what they felt was necessary to know in order to navigate the world as people of power and privilege. Lex had taken to all official and non-official lessons quickly and without issue. Lena, on the other hand, was almost always uncomfortable. 

When in boarding school Lena had some autonomy in her studies, but during summer breaks she and Lex were tutored in business and political science, both for which Lena didn’t care much. She was significantly more interested in building and inventing things than managing subordinates and kissing other people’s asses for money. Still, it came in handy when trying to appease her father. It did not work on Lillian, however, and after years of rejection Lena stopped actively trying to impress her.

“How did the meeting with Mr. Maeda go?” asked Lex, digging into his food.

Lionel gave a noncommittal shrug. “Not as well as I’d hoped, but overall better than expected. Either way, his is not the only mining company available for contract.”

“True, but his is the best when it comes to discretion.”

“That we know of so far,” smirked Lionel. “I’m sure we can…incentivize others if need be. Let’s hope this endeavor isn’t plagued by misfortune like the last.”

“Or else that colorful peacock in the sky will save us again?” drawled Lillian sardonically.

Lionel gave her a look. “I wouldn’t yet count on those odds, though his actions were rather fortuitous. It would’ve been a PR nightmare had people died.”

“And terrible for their families,” added Lena. Lillian rolled her eyes. Lex’s mouth twitched.

“Yes, of course, darling,” Lionel replied with a patient look before continuing. “The plan is to keep this under wraps. That flying man seems to be getting more and more proactive when it comes to danger and I would not like to be on his or anyone else’s radar.”

“You’ve been monitoring him?” said Lex.

Lionel nodded, eyes brightening. “In a way, certainly. If I weren’t running a billion-dollar company I’d be spending a lot more time on him. This man is an anomaly, a person with extraordinary abilities. He could be the next step in our evolution, Lex, and I aim to learn as much about him as I can. Even meet him if it’s in the cards. So much power in one man…fascinating.”

A thick silence fell over the group. Lillian chimed in. “I do not trust him. For someone so keen on making public appearances in a ridiculous costume he seems to be hiding a great deal. He’s been the talk of the internet and broadcast news for over a month and nobody knows a thing about him except that he’s strong, fast, and can somehow fly. All he does is swoop in, save lives, and fly away.”

“Is that a bad thing?” asked Lena incredulously. Lillian shot her a look of thinly veiled impatience.

“Good and bad are irrelevant, Lena. He is an unknown variable and therefore highly dangerous.”

“I don’t disagree,” retorted Lionel. “Yet I do deem it unwise to make an enemy out of someone so powerful so quickly. Who can say for certain he only has these three abilities? This is likely the main reason significant world powers have been hesitant to call him out despite his disregard for sovereign borders. Though I suspect that many have already begun to militarize just in case. We have no idea how powerful he truly is. I’ve no doubt that he is being scrutinized more thoroughly than anyone has been in the history of mankind.”

“A prudent course of action,” said Lillian. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Quite. LuthorCorp will continue to track his exploits, of course, off the books. Intriguingly, he’s been spotted here in Metropolis more often than anywhere else, which requires further study.”

“You will include me in this?”

“Of course, Lillian. Would either of you like to be in on this project?”

Lex affirmed immediately, but it took a few seconds for Lena to gather her answer. She nodded, initiating an awkward silence.

“What is the mining project for?” said Lena slowly, uncomfortable with the tension.

Lionel piped back up, engaged. “A mineral. A xeno-mineral in fact! Rather large meteorites have been found in several places across the country. Their chemical composition is nothing like anything we’ve seen before. Some of our associates discovered small crystals in Texas when closing a contract with the Army. We gathered spectroscopic data and are doing our best to find more with its isotopic signature.”

“Are they radioactive?” Lena asked, smiling widely. Her relationship with Lionel wasn’t perfect by any means, but every drawback seemed to fade away for her every time they talked science.

“Faintly. We’ll be following protocol for protection of course, but so far it seems superfluous.”

“What do they look like?”

“They’re magnificent, Lena. Gorgeous and clearer than anything you’ve ever seen. And they glow.”

“Seriously?” Lena looked at Lex, grinning. She knew he wasn’t anywhere near as excited as she was, but he smiled back anyway.

“Oh, yes. A deep, bright green.”


	14. Less a Phantom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey is almost complete. They are coming.

Zod stood once again at the bridge of his warship, looking out of the large one-way window at the far end. It was made of crystal, durable and capable of filtering out most radiation. A distant star came into view. Zod’s face retained its composure, but a deep sadness welled up within him at the sight of the star’s red light.

< _The systems, Kelor?_ > asked Zod after a moment.

< _Standard propulsion and communication systems are online, but not at full capacity_ ,> said a disembodied voice. < _We are at less than half power, and have only basic weaponry available. Cloaking capabilities are down as well._ >

Zod gave an absentminded nod. All in all, it was better than expected. He counted his blessings. The other prisoners had kept their ends of the deals without any real hassle. No roadblocks on that front. 

< _What is our approximate distance from Earth?_ > asked Zod, walking down the corridor leading to the healing chamber. He considered himself fortunate that he was able to get his A.I. back online despite the rest of his ship running on basic capabilities.

< _Nine and a half light-years, General._ >

It was oddly comforting to hear the digitized voice of the robotic assistant. Kelor had been a gift from Jor-El, the last before they’d fallen out and Zod had formed the Black Zero as resistance against the Council. He and Jor used to agree on almost everything, and had on this to an extent. Even though they’d differed on method, they both knew there needed to be change where the Council was concerned. In a way, Zod admired Jor for his belief that reason would hold out. But he’d known better. The Council was past reason, and would only see force. 

Not that it mattered much anyway. Krypton would have been destroyed regardless.

Zod strode into the healing chamber. Faora was sitting on the floor in the middle of a mess of tools, swiping through a hand-held command console with a hard look on her face. Eight rejuvenation capsules stood along the walls in an inverted “U” shape, each disconnected from the piping coming through the ceiling. Large tables made of metal and crystal filled the empty space in the middle of the room. Off to the side closer to Faora were eight small mechanical spheres. She looked over at the general as he came in and greeted him with a curt nod before standing up and giving him an update.

< _It is almost finished. The healing apparatuses have been repurposed as you commanded. All they need now is genetic material to serve as a template for transformation_.>

< _Thank you, Faora_ ,> said Zod. She nodded. A silence fell between them while Zod pondered his next words. Faora began to clean up. < _I am pleased that it is you who is by my side_.>

Faora stopped and looked back at him, wary. Her fingers twitched.

< _It is an honor, my General,_ > she replied slowly, clearly guarded amid the uncharacteristically blatant declaration of emotion. She could not read him; his face held no expression. He still held the stoicism for which he had always been so well known.

< _Do you know why I chose you as my lieutenant, long before the days of the Black Zero?_ > asked Zod softly, tilting his head a bit and clasping his hands behind his back with a wide stance.

< _For my astuteness in both combat and medical technology?_ > Faora guessed. The corner of Zod’s mouth twitched upward.

< _In part, yes. But more specifically for your conviction and your sense of loyalty. To Krypton, and to me._ >

< _The Council failed me. You and Krypton did not. > _

_ <Nor have you once failed me_,> said Zod. His hands unclasped and came to hang at his sides. < _Even when I have asked too much of you. > _

_ <You have never asked too much. I trust your judgment and as long as I do, nothing you require will be out of the question._> Faora put the rest of her tools on the closest table.

Zod looked her over with a cool expression. < _That implies the possibility of your defection. A dangerous sentiment to express to your commanding officer._ >

< _Would you have expected any less?_ > responded Faora with a hint of a smirk, walking back to face him a few feet away.

Zod beckoned her closer with his hand. She complied, staring at him with her eyebrows slightly raised. Faora was satisfied to see the glint in his eyes when she walked over. Now they were inches from each other.

< _Not from a rebel_.>

Finally moving to satisfy his silent longing, Zod kissed her. Faora gripped him fervently, meeting him with intense enthusiasm. He’d come to expect that despite the emotionless mask she tended to wear. Zod’s relationship with Faora was as complicated as it was simple, but they knew their roles and did not try to change themselves or each other. They worked well on instinct and understood one another fundamentally.

Faora tugged him closer and in a few steps she was leaning against the table, bracing herself against her lover’s advances. His suit was soft and almost glossy, a sharp contrast to the hard muscle underneath. She was grateful that Zod was not wearing any armor. It would have been that much harder to get him out of his clothing.

Zod lifted Faora to sit on the edge of the table and nestled himself between her legs. She wrapped them around his waist instinctively, locking her ankles at his back. A deep growl reverberated through his chest, making her hungrier for him the more she stripped him of control. Faora clawed at him and he moved his lips to her neck. She moaned joyously at the contact.

Soon there was nothing but air between them. Faora kissed her general hungrily, scratching at the muscles in his back and shoulders. He was as solid as she’d ever known him. The realization under her fingertips made her desperate. She needed further contact. She dragged her nails down the front of his body and stopped to take his hardness in her hand. The general hissed in response. Faora smiled. 

Zod trailed kisses and bites down her jaw and neck, roughly kneading the soft skin of her breast. His fingertips teased her, catching the hardened tip of her nipple before pinching and rubbing. Faora rocked her hips with obvious force and impatience. She pumped him faster, grunting a few short breaths. Zod moaned against her neck, and a wanton laugh escaped Faora’s lips.

In one smooth, abrupt move Zod lifted Faora's arms up and slipped them over his shoulders. Where she automatically locked them around his neck. The contact felt like everything they needed, everything they'd wished for but couldn't have in the Phantom Zone, and nothing could or would stop this moment. 

Zod took hold of her waist and pulled, spreading her legs further and lining her up with himself perfectly. He slid his cock inside her, almost all the way to the hilt on the first thrust. A sharp gasp tore itself from her throat. Faora sank her teeth into the base of his neck and shivered violently as he continued to thrust at a steady, quick pace. She reveled in the ebb and flow, the wavelike sensations coursing through her body - the body she finally had. In the Phantom Zone, the form one took was a pale imitation of what it meant to exist. The dimensional plane deadened all sensory feeling, and even when able to walk freely about the ship she'd felt hollow.

But now, intimately knowing the difference, she felt more alive than she'd ever felt on Krypton. Clawing and gripping, molding into him, Faora crested on the evidence of life and freedom and moaned gleefully with the wild thought that this was what her body was made for.

Zod gripped the muscle of her thighs and continued to thrust fervently into her. The expressions weaving across his lieutenant's face served to push him further toward release. The intensity of her cries rose in a steady climb, every single part of her lost to sensation and pleasure. His lips and tongue explored every inch he could reach. A haze of lust and devotion consumed him as they moved together, deep thrusts in time with the rocking of her hips. 

Faora stiffened suddenly, pulling him down toward her as she touched her head to his. Her eyes squeezed shut, ragged gasps pouring through her lips. Her fingers held him in a vice grip. She thrusted her hips harder against him.

" _Lizrhom,_ " she pleaded in a breathless whisper. _More._

Zod dug his hands into and pulled her to meet him as he slammed his hips forward even harder. She arched forward into his chest and he held her there, feeling the shiver of her body just before detonation.

A sharp cry forced its way from Faora's chest, and the culmination of their desperate act flowed through her like a thunderstorm. The strength of her release pulled at the man she was with, and Zod's own orgasm followed quickly behind hers. They rode them out together, eventually coasting down to low tides.

Faora slumped backward on the table in contented exhaustion. She laughed softly, and surprised herself with the sound. Zod huffed and leaned forward, bracing his hands against the edge of the table. He looked down at Faora. Her eyes met his and he smirked automatically. She rolled her eyes and did the same.

A distant boom filled the air. Zod's expression changed immediately. He gritted his teeth at the interruption, but knew it could not go unchecked. He pulled back from Faora, and she instinctively moved with him to keep the closeness until she saw his face and regained her wits. She frowned.

They dressed quickly and strode back into the corridor. < _Kelor, report_ ,> Zod barked.

< _There was a small explosion in the engine room. One generator down but the other two are still intact_.>

Faora cursed under her breath and followed Zod at a brisk pace all the way down to the engine room. The two of them came upon the scene that Faora had expected, which was a physical altercation between Dev and Jax. Dev was on the ground lying flat with his forearms covering his face, taking the brunt of Jax’s current assault. Jax was straddled over him, pinning him down.

Faora’s face twisted in disgust and ire at having her moment with Zod interrupted. Her lover wore a much more passively stern look as he strode all the way up to the source of the commotion. As Kelor had said, one of the generators off to the side was dented and sparking, clearly no longer in working order. A large device and apparatus were connected to the generator next to it.

With one hand, Zod ripped Jax off of Dev by the shoulder and pinned him to the back wall without a glance back at the victim. Jax, preoccupied with violent intentions, struggled against Zod at first but then relented once noticing that it was his commanding officer restraining him. Jax opened his mouth but was immediately cut off by Zod with a hand around his throat.

< _Do not speak, > _ said Zod in a low voice. He squeezed, and turned only his head to address Dev. < _How long until the phantom drive is completed and operational_?>

Dev sat up, breathing raggedly and spitting blood from his mouth. < _It is already done, General. > _

_ <Well done.> _ Zod turned back to Jax. < _Now you will listen. You knew what my orders were, and yet you did not comply. Had you behaved like a feckless imbecile any earlier, the phantom drive would not have been completed, thus hindering my plans. At the current moment, Dev-Em is more useful than you have shown yourself to be_.>

Jax did not answer, merely staring. Faora examined the scene from a distance. Zod spoke again. < _Perhaps we can rectify that. Kelor, assume android form and attend to Dev-Em in the infirmary. Faora, I believe we have our subject. > _

The general whipped Jax around him by the throat and let him go, ordering him to march. Jax complied, clearly full of fear. Zod had not told him much of his plans, and really, why would he? He’d only kept Jax around as extra muscle that he could control, and now that he wasn’t falling in line, Zod had no real long term use for him.

Once back in the healing chamber, Jax and Faora both stood away from Zod, awaiting instruction. Faora held a noncommittal expression while Jax’s was a pale mask with darting eyes.

< _How much do you need_?> asked Zod.

< _Not much, > _ Faora answered lightly. _ <There are eight of them, however.> _

_ <Indeed. Get started.> _

Jax looked between them silently, like a child in trouble with a parent. Despite being unafraid to argue with Faora, Jax knew that if it ever came down to it he’d never be able to match her for skill in a fight. But that wasn’t what had him shaking now. It was Zod, the man known on Krypton for being equal parts fair and merciless. His wrath was calm and swift, and nothing terrified his subordinates more than the thought of being on the receiving end of it. Being one of three Kryptonian survivors did nothing to quell that fear for Jax.

Faora did as commanded and Jax flinched when she first got close.

< _If you struggle, I’ll kill you right here_ ,> said Zod. Jax relaxed immediately, almost limp.

Faora connected Jax to the eight spherical objects in the room by way of thin tubes and needles. She drained more blood than she needed, silently prolonging his discomfort and anxiety with a calm sense of satisfaction. Faora then set the drones to calibrate and record the genetic data.

Dev, now as patched up as he was going to be, accompanied Zod and Faora down to the holding cells as they escorted Jax back into the cell he’d occupied in the Phantom Zone. Now he was standing on the outside, the way Jax had been with him during the interrogation. A perverse pleasure came with knowing he replaced Jax; his obvious inner torment was an added bonus to Dev’s plan, and it had been so easy. A few jabs to his ego and Jax became a violent mess who couldn’t control himself.

Watching Jax reminded Dev of his own stint in the dungeons at the royal citadel. It was surreal, thinking of it now. Killing the royal family was more about revenge than it was about helping the common people, though he was sure it accomplished both. It was easy telling Faora during his interrogation. It was almost a boast, in a way. But what he hadn’t told her was that they were his family too. There wasn’t a reason to. Her knowing he was a prince who’d slaughtered his kin would’ve had the opposite effect than the one he desired. Daxam was never home, but Dev would have been foolish to regard Krypton as such also. The aim was to find a way to get somewhere else – somewhere he could not only survive, but thrive. 

Krypton was the closest planet to Daxam and had not had legal contact with other planets, which was perfect for him. Looking similar to everyone else was invaluable and allowed him to blend (though he was a bit darker skinned than most but not so much so that he’d stand out considerably). But of course, since nothing was ever easy, Zod had staged a coup against the Council before Dev could set the final steps of his plan in motion. Not soon after he was discovered by the Council’s military guild in a planet-wide interrogation to weed out foreigners and dissidents. 

He’d pondered Faora’s proposal of escape but ultimately knew he would not take it. Why escape in the middle of nowhere and roam the galaxies for a suitable place when he could accompany them to Earth and be powerful like them?

Zod strode up to the cell gate and addressed Jax, who was glaring daggers at Dev from the back of his cell. _ <Faora and Dev-Em have done exactly as I commanded. You, however, seem to have outlived your usefulness.> _

Jax’s eyes flickered between Faora and the general. Slowly, the implications of his superior’s words dawned on him. His face twisted as he came forward to push against the bars of his cell.

 _ <Please!> _ he rasped. _ <I have been at your side for many cycles. Loyal to you – to Krypton!> _

_ <Of what value is loyalty when paired with disobedience?> _

Jax huffed and moved to look over at Faora, who was standing idly behind Zod with a bored look on her face. < _Faora! Tell him. You know I can still be useful to the mission. Faora? > _

She didn’t answer.

 _ <Quiet,> _ Zod snapped. Jax recoiled from his grip on the gate despite being several feet away from the general. He looked between the three on the other side of the gate. Zod gave another order. _ <Kneel.> _

The prisoner did as commanded. It reminded him of his first pledge of fealty cycles ago in a citadel in Rao City. But this time he stayed silent, frozen. Zod’s apathetic gaze held him there for a long moment.

< _I will not kill you today,_ > murmured Zod. < _I am not without mercy._ >

Jax collapsed forward, putting his head on the ground inches behind the bars of his cell. < _Thank you, General! Thank you! > _

_ <The mission may have use for you yet. But until then, you will remain here.> _

A cascade of emotions flickered across Jax's face. It was obvious there was much he wanted to say, but for once he thought better of it. _ <I promise you, I will not fail you again._>

< _You will not have the chance. Kelor, seal the gate._ >

A thin slab of metal ejected from the wall to which the gate was attached, sliding across to cover the front of the gate completely. Zod strode off and the other two in the corridor fell in step behind him. Once back on the bridge, the general had Kelor set a course for their intended destination. Now with an operational phantom drive, their journey was nearly at an end.


	15. Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Zod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The narration refers to Clark as "Kal" in the back half of the chapter for narrative purposes. Hopefully it's clear why.

Clark tossed his phone onto the command console in the Fortress with a sigh. He knew Lana was having a girl’s night in with her roommates and felt guilty for intruding, but still hoped she’d pick up. Ever since they’d talked about amending his actions in public, their conversations had gotten shorter and less involved than they used to be, and he’d seen less of her than usual. Calling her now just to talk was a bit of a desperate move, but he'd gotten more and more worried over the last few weeks.

He hoped he was overreacting, but Clark wasn’t sure what to think. Lana wasn’t exactly forthcoming with explicit information regarding her feelings. Even if something _was_ wrong and Clark tried to get it out of her, it likely wouldn’t happen until things got much worse. That’s just how it was with her. 

Still, he’d have to make the effort to talk to her about it, at least once. Silent worrying never got anyone anywhere. But it was probably nothing. Lana was just getting busier with LuthorCorp, that’s all. The Fellowship was near its end and almost all teams were working with the R&D Department to prepare for the coming expo. In the last five years, LuthorCorp and its subsidiaries had churned out so many initiatives that the annual expo had become a two day event. This year was no different, so Clark knew Lana would have to prepare. 

Kelex was currently streaming news broadcasts on the console’s holographic projector. Clark appreciated that the AI could pick up any radio signal in the world. It was a good way to keep up with current events that didn’t specifically have to do with immediate danger or his own exploits. However, Clark had been the subject of broadcasts more and more often. He supposed it was his own fault. In the last couple of weeks he’d increased his time in public drastically. The first broadcast had a political analyst on a talk show.

_“This is uncharted territory. It’s unprecedented. What are we to do when a powerful figure shows up out of nowhere? No matter what he does, he will be met with conflicting opinions. His mere existence incites controversy, and the fact that he acts unilaterally all over the world only stirs the pot further.”_

The second was a correspondent speaking outside the White House.

_“–two months since the first sighting of him where he rescued the passengers of the L707. In a press conference this afternoon, the president expressed that she would like a meeting with this man as soon as possible. She is the fourth leader of a sovereign nation to call upon him for a meeting so far...”_

Clark expected mixed reactions and diplomatic responses to his coming out, but was so preoccupied with the average citizen that he willfully ignored the political and social implications of his actions. He wanted to avoid being seen as a threat. But maybe he was taking too long to get in front of the narratives that individuals and collectives were sure to put on him. Clark begrudgingly accepted the realization that no matter what he does, he will be seen as a threat by many just for existing.

Clark cut the streaming and had Kelex run security scans. His eyes were drawn to his phone, silent on the console. Lana was more important in the short term. The expo was tomorrow. The world could wait.

The night before the expo saw a quiet night for Lana, Lena, and Takeia. Card games were played and stories were shared with liberal amounts of take-out and wine. Lena, despite being underage, was somehow quite the connoisseur and suggested wines that she figured the others would enjoy based on their favorite foods and drinks. Takeia didn’t question it, but instead volunteered to make the run since Lena obviously could not. Lana wasn’t a big wine drinker but did appreciate Lena’s choices. She definitely drank more than she should have.

Getting up to refill on wine after losing six rounds of poker to Lena, Lana checked her phone. There was one missed call from Clark, but not much else of import. She stared at the notification. No voicemail and no follow-up text from him. It couldn’t have been an emergency then, right? He probably just wanted to talk.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary. Lana would sometimes call him out of the blue as well. But she felt awkward. They hadn’t talked much in the last couple of weeks. Both of them had been busy doing their own things. Yet even though she did want to talk to him, something made her hesitate. Another sip of wine solidified the knot in her stomach. After a moment, she tossed her phone onto the couch and went back to the game. Guilt crept into her thoughts, but she did her best to ignore it. Clark knew she had stay-in plans with her roommates. It could wait till tomorrow. She was going to see him in person anyway.

Thinking of the expo, Lana was bummed that the fellowship seemed to be over so quickly. Still, she was proud of the work they’d done. A lot of the projects scheduled to be showcased were ones with which most to all the fellows helped directly. She would miss working and hanging out with the others very much if they ended up separating and following paths elsewhere. There was a good chance of that happening, too. LuthorCorp may or may not continue to have them as partners following the expo, and who was to say everyone would stay if they did?

There was a palpable split between the two sets of roommates (except for Gerry, who would be best friends with anyone who’d let him). Those that lived together worked best together, and working across apartment set-ups engendered a few snags here and there. 

Lana wasn’t surprised that some were jealous of Lena. Despite being the youngest, Lena was by far the most versatile and creative of the bunch. If she had noticed any envy, though, she never let on. Always cordial and professional, Lena communicated well in the lab and chatted amiably in equal measure. Lana felt protective of Lena even though she knew the young woman didn’t need it. They’d gotten along well as both roommates and partners, and Lana’s instinct was to look out for her like she would a younger sister. She never had experience in that regard, being an only child, but she assumed that’s what it would feel like.

***************************

Lena was up and out so early the next morning that neither of her roommates were awake by the time she left. The sun was just fully coming up as she took the walk to LuthorCorp Tower, squinting through the slight hangover.

Even when talking and playing games the night before, her mind had been mostly on LuthorCorp. During the back half of the fellowship, Lena spent a lot of her downtime with Lionel on the xeno-mineral project, which so far hadn’t been as fruitful as she hoped. Maybe that was a good thing. She didn’t want to be even more reclusive than she had a habit of being, especially when living with two people she’d come to regard as decently good acquaintances.

Lionel had flown back from Japan last night for the expo and would be going over more data gathered about the Flying Man with Lex and Lillian. Though Lena was the least involved, she did check in from time to time. It was more out of curiosity than anything (certainly not the borderline obsession that Lex seemed to be getting himself into), and there were tons of questions that Lena would like answered. It was fascinating. 

She wanted to figure out how this man’s powers worked and catalog the differences in his biology compared to a normal human’s. It was surely a longshot, however, since that would require his consent and it was unlikely he’d give it since he hardly interacted with anyone at length. They’d probably never meet him anyway.

The last time she’d heard anything was on the news two days before. He’d stopped a tornado in Quinton, Oklahoma. Of course, someone had taken a blurry, shaky video of the incident instead of getting to safety, but to Lena it was as informative as it was imprudent. The video showed high winds and lots of dark gray, but in the distance around the funnel was a streak of red circling upward and against the winds. Lena had already inferred his minimum strength and speed implications from the plane incident’s aftermath, but it was another thing to actually see him in action. She wondered what material his costume was made out of, since even his cape held up easily against the winds and pressure of the storm.

Lena and her roommates never really talked about him together, which was fine with her. It would be best to focus on him in the context of Lionel’s project. But as curious as she was, Lena couldn’t devote as much time as she wanted to until after the expo.

Lena strolled through the deserted lobby and down to the main lab in a sleepy haze, but was soon broken out of her reverie as she entered the hallway just off the entrance. The sounds coming from inside stopped her before she met the threshold, and she recognized them immediately. Lionel and Lex’s voices filled the room with thin, venomous tones, forcing a spell of uneasiness through her. Lena remained out of sight, listening. She knew better than to put herself in the sights of an angry Luthor.

“– goddamn weak,” came Lex’s voice. “You didn’t get to where you are by taking the moral high road so why start now?”

“This needs to be handled with caution, Lex! I raised you to use your brain, not act on every damn impulse you have.”

Lionel’s voice was calmer than Lex’s, but just barely. Lex dropped the volume but replaced it with more ice. “At least I’m not sitting on my ass waiting for something to happen at _his_ leisure. I’m taking action. The reward outweighs the risk.”

“You sound just like your mother,” Lionel spat in sharp disappointment.

“And that’s a bad thing, is it?”

The haughtiness of Lex’s tone unnerved Lena the most. It was detached, with an air of superiority and a little too much grandeur.

“When it comes to going unnoticed, your mother is a maven. But you, on the other hand, crave attention for that silly little ego of yours. When it all goes south, and it will, you’ll be dealing a blow to all of our reputations, and LuthorCorp’s as well. And for what? The slim chance he’ll actually show up?”

“It will work if all of us are on board together. Had _she_ come to you with this, you would be!”

“Lillian’s risks are calculated, never shortsighted. It’s not only ridiculous that you would assume she’d think of something so asinine, it’s an insult to her intelligence.”

Lena could feel her heartbeat in her ears. Lionel certainly wasn’t pulling any punches today. She could imagine the anger bubbling up inside her brother right now. But he didn’t respond. Lena heard her father give a heavy sigh.

“This isn’t some backroom deal or private project. You’re talking of tampering with an established on-the-books operation. The necessary steps needed to maintain deniability have not been taken. Everything in this initiative points back to LuthorCorp.”

“Accidents happen all the time,” said Lex in a tight voice. “Our plane is a prime example, and any negative information involving LuthorCorp would be hearsay. The media -”

“Who cares about the media? It’s about what that man in the sky can do! There are too many variables involved to know if you’ll actually get the outcome you want, but let’s say you do. If he does show up and discovers what you’ve done, could you predict how he’ll react? We have no idea who he is, what he wants, how he thinks, or what this man is truly capable of, but you want to poke a sleeping bear!”

The younger Luthor scoffed, a low, supercilious sound that reminded Lena of Lillian. “You’re afraid. The mighty lion is really nothing more than a terrified lamb.”

“Life is a game of chess, Lex - the right moves at the right times. Neglecting your pieces, moving with haste...it always spells defeat. You never understood that. It’s why you’ve never beaten me. Or Lena for that matter.”

Lena’s breath caught in her throat, attention focusing even more at the sound of her name.

“Oh, of course,” drawled Lex contemptuously. “Precious Lena can do no wrong. You’d love it if it were her in line to be at the helm, wouldn’t you?”

There was silence. Lionel gave a mirthless chuckle.

“So that’s what this is really about. You reek of desperation, son. It’s unbecoming.”

The younger Luthor snarled. “Answer the question."

“Don’t be dramatic, Lex. She’s not ready for that and even if she were she doesn’t want the company. Or the Luthor name, for that matter.”

“If the roles were reversed would you have given me that choice?”

All the patience in Lionel’s voice disappeared. Lena was frozen in place. “The roles aren’t reversed so that is inconsequential. The fact is you’ve shown me time and time again that you don’t have the right judgment to be in a position of that much power. Your arrogance will land you in prison or worse, and I will not have that tied to my name.”

Lex huffed in obvious anger. “History will remember the Luthor name because of me, not you, _Father._ ”

The low snarl seemed almost inhuman to Lena. The more she heard, the more confused became. This didn’t sound like the brother she knew at all. 

“All you’ll be remembered for are your futile attempts to turn delusion into reality. If you had put half that energy into learning and growing, you would actually be the man you think you are,” said Lionel in an even tone. He sighed again. “I will not be stepping down any time soon, and certainly not for you. All of LuthorCorp’s dealings are mine to control, and this harebrained measure will never come to fruition. It’s not happening, Lex.”

A long silence ensued. Lena backtracked down the hall the way she came and waited farther from the door.

“I guess we’ll see,” said Lex in a much calmer tone.

The sound of footsteps approaching put Lena on alert. The brunette turned around and immediately relaxed her body, starting forward at an unhurried pace. She rubbed her eyes just as Lex appeared in the hallway. His body jerked to a stop upon noticing her coming forward. Then he started toward her.

Lena made herself yawn. “Hey,” she said thickly. “You’re here early.”

A small smile played at her brother’s lips. His expression was nothing like the tone she’d heard him use a minute before. It seemed untrustworthy now. 

“Just rolled out of bed?” he asked. Lena chuckled.

“Rude.” Lex smiled wider. “Anyone else in the lab?”

Lex’s eyes flickered, not unnoticed by Lena. She waited.

“Just Dad,” he said flatly. Lex bumped her arm affectionately. Lena’s brow creased imperceptibly. The gesture stood out now. Did he always do that? “I’ll be back later in time for the expo. Good luck.”

Lena nodded, not looking at him as he walked past and down the hall. She stayed rooted to the spot and let everything she overheard catch up with her conscious mind.

Lex and Lionel must have been referencing the Flying Man, which would make sense considering their side project, but Lena was not privy to the subject of the disagreement. It obviously involved more than just her family and it had the potential to be very dangerous. She definitely wouldn’t put it past Lillian to place people in danger or use them as bait to meet her own ends, but up until now she was so sure that Lex wouldn’t do that. The Lex she knew would never be so callous. This had to be his mother’s fault. Not for the first time, rage flared through Lena in condemnation of Lillian’s influence and continued corruption of her older brother.

Lionel didn’t have to be so hard on him though. It was true that Lex was more reckless than Lena was – he always had been – but he was the obvious choice as Lionel’s successor. Lex was much better equipped to run LuthorCorp better than she ever could and Lillian wouldn’t take Lionel’s place even if given the opportunity. But it was an odd thing to talk about regardless. It’s not like Lionel had any reason to relinquish his position. Lena knew that it was Lex’s dream for him to take his father’s place, but Lionel was a healthy 55 year-old man that was more than capable.

Still, there was something else about the conversation that bothered Lena. Lionel was no saint, but he definitely wasn’t as cold-hearted as his wife. It wasn’t beneath Lionel to manipulate people and situations to his advantage, but he wasn’t cruel. Yet Lionel’s basis for disagreement left a lot to be desired. Lena got the impression that Lionel wouldn’t have minded the potential damage if Lex had a better plan. Her stomach tightened, an empty feeling permeating her core. She knew her family wasn’t great by any means, but this was so fucked up. 

Lena pursed her lips and took a breath. She finally entered the lab to find Lionel checking his phone. His head snapped up at the sound of her heels clicking on the floor. Lena’s face was a passive mask betraying nothing, as Lillian had taught her so well.

“Ah, Lena! I didn’t realize you’d be up so early.”

“What’s up?” Lena gave her father a sleepy smile. “Everything good with the expo?”

“Security’s already in and the crew went down to start setting up fifteen minutes ago. But never mind that. I’ve got important news.”

Lionel waved her over excitedly. If Lena hadn’t been eavesdropping, she never would’ve guessed he’d just been in a heated argument. Now she wondered about all the times he’d argued with Lex that she _didn’t_ know about.

Lena took stock of the room. It was mostly bare, all the prototypes having been cleared out for the showcase. There were going to be lots of important people coming to witness what LuthorCorp had to offer – the fruits of the projects in which she had been directly involved. That idea alone was almost enough to distract her from her newfound stress.

“We’re wrapping up the mining project,” said Lionel, leaning more comfortably on the table now. “We have enough to start the real testing, but we’ll continue mining for spares the next couple of days. Most of the pieces were small, as you know, but last night they found a rather large fragment of crystal embedded in the rock. It’s 8.6 kilograms, and seems to be fully intact.”

Lena’s eyes went wide, momentarily lost in the news. “That’s huge! When can we see it?”

The elder Luthor chuckled. “In time. None of the further testing will be here, of course. I’ve set up another lab across the bay and moved our hardware over, but we can only really dig in once the expo and subsequent proposals are through. The team has been assembled and briefed, so they’ll be doing preliminary assessments until we get there for the big stuff.”

“Awesome,” Lena beamed, eliciting a fond smile from Lionel. She appreciated that it was only him here. Lillian would have berated her on the use of such a so-called “childish” interjection.

“Awesome, indeed,” he said. Lionel’s phone beeped and his attention switched to the device. He made a face and pocketed it. “Looks like they need help downstairs.”

Lionel exited the room swiftly and with purpose, leaving Lena standing in the middle of the lab with a whirlwind of warring thoughts. She frowned, lamenting the loss of peace of mind during what would have been a fantastic day.

************************

The expo started at noon with a short speech from Lionel Luthor. The hall was packed with business owners, investors, organization representatives, college students, and common folk, all engrossed in some invention or experiment displayed in cases or on tables. Clark had gotten there before everything was set to begin, milling about with the other early ones. As a civilian, he couldn’t hang out with the moderators or anyone else involved with the expo in an official capacity so seeing Lana before that was an impossibility. Even after it started, he didn’t really see much of her at first. Admittedly, he spent most of the first hour checking out other stuff on his own. He was mostly there for support, but a lot of what was on display piqued his interest. 

Lana manned tables and talked with attendees for most of the presentation portion of the expo. The LuthorCorp fellows had been introduced briefly during the opening speech, so she and the others had received significantly more attention than the other participants. Lana didn’t mind. It felt good to be recognized. She’d been chatting with Gerry while wheeling him around when she was asked for a picture by a tall, lanky red-haired man who looked to be about her age, if not a little younger. He had freckles, and she could tell that unlike her he was quite shy. His voice, surprisingly, was strong and clear.

“Hi, I’m Jimmy. Jimmy Olsen,” he said with a small wave of his hand and readjustment of his camera. “I’m with the Daily Planet. Mind if I take a picture of you two? My boss’ll kill me if I don’t get photos of the fellows.”

“Of course!” answered Gerry, wriggling in his wheelchair with a broad smile. “Make sure you get my good side, though. This one doesn’t have a bad side so whichever angle you get me should be fine for her.”

Lana chuckled. Her eyes roamed over the crowd behind the photographer and fell on the most familiar face in the crowd. Clark was at the back of a group of people listening to a woman talking beside a table full of different types of batteries. He’d recently developed a facial tick to adjust his glasses without his hands, and seeing him do it now made Lana smile. Lena showed up not too long after that, checking up on them. Lana could tell the other girl was much more comfortable in these types of settings and was grateful for her presence.

Jimmy took a few pictures and asked for all their names before being interrupted by a woman with long, straightened black hair and high heels. The Daily Planet press pass clipped to her short-sleeved blue button-up swung back and forth as she gestured with her hands and gave Jimmy a stern talking-to.

“You’re supposed to be shadowing me, gingerbread. That means _follow_. How do you plan on following if you’re constantly walking off?”

Jimmy had the decency to look sheepish, but still met her eyes. “Sorry, Lois. But I had to get pictures of the fellows, right? Kind of just saw my chance and took it.”

Lois looked them up and down and then nodded, introducing herself and effectively letting Jimmy off the hook. She retrieved a small notepad and a voice recorder from her breast and pants pockets, respectively.

“The Daily Planet would like to interview you on your experiences as LuthorCorp fellows. I have questions for each of you if that's okay.”

"No thank you," said Lena with a polite smile. Lois quirked an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. Lana didn't answer.

"Ask away, Miss Lane," said Gerry, wheeling himself behind their table and gesturing for the reporter to follow. Jimmy wandered off again, camera in hand.

Lena and Lana exchanged a look of understanding. “Not a fan of interviews?” asked Lana.

Lena shrugged. “Interviews are fine in general. But news outlets that big can’t be trusted.”

“What do you mean?” Lana leaned back to half-sit on her presenting table, angled toward the other woman. Lena’s hands came together, turning over one another, fingertips tapping. Lana would see her do it every now and then. She wondered what it signified about the brunette’s state of mind.

Lena sighed, then gave Lana an amiable smirk. “If anyone or anything has power, it always has an agenda. Remember that.”

Lana blinked, marveling at the confusion that came with knowing Lena was six years younger than her but feeling like she was ten years older. Before she could answer, Lena spoke again.

“Judging by the pictures you’ve shown me I’d say that’s your boyfriend coming over. He’s taller than I thought he’d be.”

Lana bolted upright and looked around, searching. Her eyes fell on him just as he came up from the left, smiling and greeting them.

“Hey you,” said Clark, hands in his pockets. Lana gently pulled him down by his shirt collar and kissed him. Lena chuckled beside them.

“Hi. Enjoying the expo?” 

“Even more now. Everything I’ve seen is so cool! Y’all are awesome.”

“Thank you very much,” said Lana with an exaggerated bow. She turned and thrust her hands out in a presentation pose. “This is Lena, the amazing roommate and lab partner I’ve told you so much about.”

Clark gave an impressed look and held out his hand to Lena. She shook it. 

“So she talks about me?” repeated Lena. “What did she tell you?”

“That you snore like a chainsaw.” Clark answered with a neutral expression. Lena raised her eyebrows and looked at her roommate.

“That is _not_ what I told you, you ass,” laughed Lana, slapping her boyfriend’s arm.

“Okay. I was told that you are ‘badass, smart as hell, incredibly considerate, and wise beyond your years.’ Did I leave anything out, Lana?”

Clark gave his girlfriend a smug look. She offered an unamused one in return. “No, that about covers it. She’s a perfect human being.”

“Quite the exaggeration, but thank you,” smiled Lena. “She’s told me a lot about you, too, _Clark_.”

“Not too much, I hope.”

Clark gave Lana a knowing look.

“Well, I’ve heard you’re not terrible to be around,” said Lena, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. Clark chuckled.

“Yeah, Lana is quite generous with her compliments. I’ll put that on my resume.”

“Wise decision. A recommendation from this lovely redhead is the highest honor and should be treated as such.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Lana wedged herself against her boyfriend with a shaky laugh. “Alrighty then! I think that’s enough with all the compliments. I’m gonna be nauseous soon and will definitely chuck on the both of you if you don’t stop.”

The redhead gave them both a cheesy grin. Lena wrinkled her nose in disgust. 

“Fantastic visual,” said Lena. “On that note, I’ll get out of your hair and check on Daron and Margaret. It was nice meeting you, Clark.”

“You too,” he said. Lena quickly disappeared into the crowd. “She seems nice.”

Lana stood on her toes and kissed Clark, more enthusiastically than she probably should have in a public setting. But he wasn’t complaining.

He laughed instead. “Okay good.”

Lana gave him a quizzical look. “What?”

Clark mentally chastised himself. He hadn’t meant for that to slip out.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said, waving her off. Lana grabbed his arm and pulled him firmly to face her. Her face now held a worried look.

“No, something's up. You can't hide it from me. What is it?”

Clark looked at Lana and sighed in surrender. After sharing his biggest secret with her, this paled in comparison. There was no point in trying to lie to her, especially when he was so bad at it.

"I...I just feel there's been some distance between us lately,” said Clark, words rushing and falling over each other. “We’ve barely talked in the last couple weeks. I know for years we didn’t communicate often, but ever since I got back in March…”

Hearing himself out loud, Clark felt absurdly foolish. Until now, he hadn’t been aware of how much he’d been worrying about their relationship as a whole. He and Lana had only been back in each other’s lives for four months, and everything had changed so quickly. Part of him still feared that Lana wasn’t completely comfortable with who he was, or what he could do. Maybe he was using this as an excuse to get some kind of external reassurance.

He let himself trail off and watched Lana’s reaction. She looked at him with a soft, unreadable expression, but didn't answer.

"I know we've both been a lot busier lately," continued Clark, "and I'm probably just overreacting and jumping to conclusions, but I wanted to get this out before I drive myself insane overanalyzing things."

Lana gave a mildly incredulous chuckle. "That's healthy of you." 

Clark followed the tug of her hands as she pulled him to kiss her again. 

"So...we're good?"

“Everything’s _fine_ , Clark. What brought this on?”

The noise of the expo around them only served to accentuate the silence between them. Lana’s searching, almost amused look gave Clark some calm. 

"So there’s nothing about what I've been doing that bothers you? Nothing about me?"

Lana flinched, a miniscule movement that did not go unnoticed. Her brow creased and she shook her head, not looking at him.

“I don’t care that you’re different, Clark. You’re amazing exactly as you are. Finding out everything took some getting used to, but it didn’t change how I felt about you. How I _feel_ about you.” Lana met his eyes with intense focus. “You have to know that.”

Clark nodded, a tiny smile touching his face. He took her hands in his and she responded with a firmer grip. “Okay. Okay. I just want to make sure I’m not pushing you away.”

Lana smiled at him, relaxing. “You’ve always been there for me. It’s only right that I stick by you too. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay.” He nodded again, more to himself than in response to his girlfriend. “I wasn’t planning on telling you this until later but I guess now’s a good time. I want to publicly address my existence, the way I keep being called to do. I want to do it soon.”

Lana’s grip slackened as she drew back, her face slowly slipping into a mask of trepidation. Everything about her demeanor changed, sending Clark into a growing state of panic. “Um...already? Are you sure?”

Clark let go of Lana’s hands. She drew them around herself and took a step back. 

“Lana -”

“Don’t you think it’s too soon? I-I mean, there’s still so much to plan for.” Lana looked around conspiratorially and dropped her voice. Her tone was unmistakably serious with an intensity Clark had not expected. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

Clark was afraid of saying anything more, but the conversation obviously wasn’t over. 

“I’ve been the subject of the news more and more often,” he spoke tentatively. “Even the president is calling for a meeting with me, and it hasn’t even been two months. Things are progressing way faster than we thought they would. I have to do _something_.”

“They want you to come out in an official capacity so that they can monitor and control you somehow. You know that, right? But _you_ have full autonomy right now. _You_ dictate how you interact with everyone. Please don’t do this just to appease them.” Lana seemed increasingly agitated the more she spoke. “We don’t have a full game plan yet, and catering to them so soon is not gonna work in your favor.”

“If I don’t, they’re going to say whatever they want about me before I get the chance to,” said Clark. “That won’t work in my favor either.”

“Clark, you _can’t_.”

Clark saw the anxious, pleading look Lana gave, and it startled him. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Why are you so bothered by this? We always knew this would have to happen sooner or later. I talked with you and Ma about it before. I don't get it.”

“I...” Lana wouldn’t meet his eyes. Her brow creased and her jaw clenched, head shaking. “Can we not talk about this right now? There's a lot going on. I shouldn’t be away from the table for too long.”

Clark felt like he’d been slapped. Lana looked at him edgily but couldn’t hold eye contact. After a moment of silence between them, Clark nodded.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. I’ll let you get back to it.”

He turned and awkwardly walked away, settling back into the crowd of people. The nervousness he’d held molded itself into dread. Eventually he took to wading listlessly from table to table, looking at what was on display but never really taking it in. His thoughts rolled over each other, flitting from worrying over Lana to fear of truly being in the public eye. 

But he’d barely had time to form a plan regarding either of those things before he was caught off guard by a deafening high-pitched ringing sound. Clark squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears, but the sound disappeared just as quickly as it came. Heart pounding in his chest and blood rushing in his head, Clark searched for the source of the sound. The only thing he found was a cause of confusion. Nobody else inside the hall seemed to have heard it.

Before he could do anything else, Clark heard something familiar. It was like he was picking up a broadcast or some kind of magnified sound from far away, but the voice he heard undoubtedly belonged to Kelex. “ _This is the security alarm, Kal. Sensors have picked up a large object descending into low earth orbit amidst a flash of interdimensional energy._ ”

Clark was already moving, weaving his way through the crowd toward the back exit. It was too congested to move at the speed he wanted, but it gave him time to think. Whatever Kelex had picked up must have teleported, because if it had come merely by propulsion then it would have been detected long before it got that close. That meant that whatever Clark was about to deal with was definitely alien or at least a result of alien technology more advanced than anything on Earth besides the Fortress. When he finally got outside he changed and took off into the sky at breakneck speed.

Clark had taken the security protocols at a glance, which in hindsight was an obvious, stupid mistake. He knew Kelex would be able to contact him anywhere in the world, but he hadn’t gone over how or what it would be like. He didn’t even know if he could contact Kelex without any technological assistance. It would make sense that he could, given how advanced everything else from the Fortress was, but Clark mentally kicked himself nonetheless. Then he gave it a try.

“Kelex?” he called against the wind whistling in his ears.

_“Yes, Kal."_

Relieved, Clark continued. “Update on the object?”

_“Still moving and will soon enter the upper atmosphere at its current course, but it’s slowing down."_

Clark himself slowed considerably in confusion, now only going hypersonic. “Can you see what it is?”

A few seconds passed before Kelex responded. That wasn’t like Kelex. The AI could easily perform billions of calculations a second, but for some reason it seemed like it was stopping to think. 

_“It is a Kryptonian warship. It seems to be on course for the Atlantic Ocean about 1500 miles northeast of Metropolis._ ”

Clark stopped fully this time, floating high above the cumulus clouds blanketing the sky. He must have heard Kelex wrong. It couldn’t be a _Kryptonian_ warship, right? Krypton was destroyed, gone, and nobody but him had survived. The archives said that nobody on Krypton had been out in deep space on a warship for centuries, as all military forces were grounded and poised to protect Krypton against invading forces. It had to be a mistake.

“Are you sure it’s Kryptonian, Kelex?” said Clark, his voice wavering a bit. He searched the skies, trying to find the large object. Unfortunately, he didn’t have Kelex’s ability to hijack satellite imaging. The keeper of the Fortress answered before he found it.

“ _Quite. The archives in the Fortress contain all Kryptonian military standards, including vehicle models and designs. This one is a grand warship of the most recent class._ ”

Clark’s eyes finally fell on the colossal object. It had fully stopped, hovering only a couple thousand miles away at the upper edge of the troposphere. He was buzzing with energy. If it was a Kryptonian warship, there had to be Kryptonians on it, right? If that turned out to be true, then he was no longer the sole survivor of Krypton. Clark let out a shaky breath. “How is that possible?”

“ _The interdimensional energy is telling. Given Krypton’s limited means of travel, it could only be the result of a phantom drive_.”

Clark began flying toward the ship again, gaining speed all the while. Two possibilities bounced their way through his mind: either somebody had made it off Krypton with an entire warship well before it had exploded, or non-Kryptonian alien(s) had made off with a Kryptonian warship. At this point, both seemed disbelievingly plausible. Clark hoped it was the former. The prospect of meeting another Kryptonian in the flesh was anxiety-inducing, but ever since he’d learned of his birth planet Clark had wished he wasn’t alone.

Zod stood at the bridge, looking out through the reinforced one-way crystal window at the front of the ship. Descending into this strange planet’s atmosphere was less taxing on the ship than he’d expected; the gravity wasn’t as strong here as it had been on Krypton. The sky was an interesting color. Zod had never seen one so bright with a color that wasn’t a bit harsh on the eyes. It was pleasant.

The general relished the quietude of the moment. He’d sent Faora to prepare, as well as keep an eye on Dev and Jax. He had considered killing them both after using the phantom drive, but then decided that it was rather unnecessary. Dev had proven useful in that regard, and Zod figured he could still be useful (even if not exactly trustworthy) in building a new Krypton. It was a gamble of sorts, but not one of too high a risk. If he should get out of hand, Zod and Faora would make short work of him together, especially with the powers they would have. There was a chance that, as a Daxamite, Dev would become more powerful as well, but the general was not particularly worried.

Admittedly, Zod did not have comprehensive knowledge on that subject. As a result of partaking in Jor-El’s illicit studies of outside worlds and phenomena, Zod was aware of a Kryptonian’s potential physical changes when imbibed with the radiation from a yellow or potentially even blue star. Superior strength, speed, and senses were the gist of what Zod expected, but he had no real reference. What would his limits be? What exactly would he be able to do? Zod was itching to find out. But he would not make a move until everything was ready.

A flash of color forced its way into Zod’s line of sight. He focused to see a man on the other side of the window, suspended in the air with no assistance. Zod walked around the edge of the bridge to come closer to the window, and was surprised to see that the man’s gaze followed him the entire time he did so. He shouldn’t be able to see through the window. _Interesting_ , thought Zod. He took a good look at the stranger.

His garb was colorful and definitely Kryptonian-esque. The design had elements both foreign and familiar, but what caught Zod’s attention was the large symbol emblazoned on the man’s chest. The general frowned, eliciting a look of wariness from the other man watching him through the crystal. He had not expected to meet any other Kryptonians on this planet, especially not one from the house of El.

Zod stared, his mind calculating. He’d had Kelor run scans for deep space upon leaving the Phantom Zone and found a few differences from before they’d been imprisoned. Some planets were desolate now, and some moons and other planets had been completely destroyed. His assumption had been correct. There was now only empty space where Krypton had been. Zod had no time frame for when this had occurred (and had no idea when he was now, relative to time on Krypton), but his instincts told him it was odd to see another Kryptonian now, especially one this old. 

The house of El had only five members, and the man floating outside had not been one of them. The seismic activity on Krypton had been getting worse and worse too quickly for it to have survived long enough to nurture a whole other life. This Kryptonian could not have grown up on Krypton.

Perhaps Jor finally had a son. Or maybe Zor had another child. Either way, they must have found a way to get off of Krypton without the Council’s knowledge before it was destroyed. Zod was ambivalent. The bitterness of Jor’s betrayal had not abated even slightly, but there was still a small part of the general that hoped he and his family were alive even if it would most certainly ruin his plans.

Zod pushed the thought out of his mind. There were other pressing matters. One obvious power of Kryptonians under a yellow star was self-sustained flight. A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one. The man on the other side of the window did not seem hostile, but merely curious, so Zod figured a diplomatic approach was a prudent first step. Specifically because he had not yet had a chance to drink in any solar radiation. 

Zod made his way off the bridge and down to the scout ship hangar. < _Kelor, open the hangar doors at the front. Give Faora an update_.>

The doors opened and the floor ramp extended as Zod walked down to greet the stranger. He didn’t see him at first, but then the man floated down into his line of sight. He touched down at the edge of the ramp and it ascended back up to his original position. The two Kryptonians stood in silence at first, eying each other.

Zod forced his face to stay neutral. The difference in pressure from the inside of the ship to the outside was palpable, and the air was different. The whiff he’d gotten had burned his eyes and made him a bit light-headed. Shaking the feeling off, the general opened his mouth to speak. The other man beat him to it.

 _ <Hello,> _ he said awkwardly.

Zod raised an eyebrow, both in curiosity and exasperation. _ <Who are you?> _

< _My name is Kal-El, > _ the caped man responded after taking a breath. _ <Yours?> _

_ <Are you Lara's or Alura’s son? _> Now that Kal was close, Zod got a much better look at him. He looked like both Jor and Zor.

< _Lara’s_ ,> replied Kal. 

The general’s mouth twitched slightly. There was silence again.

< _How did you survive Krypton’s destruction? > _ asked Zod, keeping his tone and body language detached and professional. Kal was not doing the same. Zod figured it would be easy to get answers out of him. If he was not on his guard physically, he probably wasn’t on guard mentally either.

 _ <I was sent here when I was a baby _ ,> said Kal a bit shyly. _ <I thought I was the only one left.> _

< _Jor and the others are not with you? > _ blurted Zod incredulously before he could stop it. He could not fathom that both Jor and Lara would elect to send their only son away without accompanying him. Kal shook his head. Zod wasn’t sure what the gesture itself meant, but judging by the sad look on Kal’s face it seemed like a “no.”

Zod’s eyes stared, unfocused. He’d expected most of Krypton to have died with the planet, but somehow the resilience for which he’d known Jor-El hadn’t truly allowed him to think he died too. The general pursed his lips. He had sympathy for Kal, who looked lost and unsure of himself in this situation. Zod was more than curious about this young man’s life sans Kryptonian family than he’d expected to be, and figured a gentle approach would be beneficial to both in the long run. < _I am Dru-Zod. Welcome, Kal-El._ >

Zod did not wait for Kal’s answer, but instead turned back to walk the way he’d come. If the other Kryptonian had any sense, he would follow.

Kal followed with a tightness in his chest. Taking shallow breaths, he realized that the air was different inside the ship than it was outside. It wasn’t too drastic a change, but it would take some getting used to. 

Kal was glad that Zod had turned away so quickly. He would not have been able to look unreactive for long. Kal had heard that name before, months ago in the Fortress, when Kelex had been giving an abridged history of Krypton and how it related to him. Having only been given a handful of proper names, Kal remembered them all.

How had he gotten out of the Phantom Zone? Kal ran through the tale of Zod’s imprisonment in his head as he walked. Zod had been one of seven prisoners, so the other six were likely out as well. He considered himself lucky, though. Coming up on the ship, he’d x-rayed it completely and had found only four people on board. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he had to come face to face with seven people deemed worthy enough for imprisonment in a separate dimension. Still, four was plenty.

< _What are you doing here? On Earth? > _ asked Kal lightly, falling in step beside Zod but leaving some space between them. He figured it wouldn’t do much good to let on he had an idea of who the general was, since it seemed Zod hadn’t had an idea that he existed until recently, at least not directly. The meekness he presented was as much a ruse as it was a true extension of his personality.

 _ <Seeking refuge,> _ the general responded, choosing his words carefully.

At the end of the long corridor he and Zod had just turned into, Kal saw a woman in garb similar to Zod's. She didn't seem to be surprised to find a stranger on board. The woman’s eyes flickered to the symbol on his chest, and then over to meet Zod’s gaze. Her brow furrowed.

< _Meet our guest, > _ said Zod. _ <Kal-El, son of Jor and Lara._>

Kal suddenly felt more out of place than he had so far. Here he was, clad in a colorful suit on board an alien spaceship of mostly blacks and grays in the middle of an awkward meeting. The woman offered no conversation, and Zod continued to lead.

< _Walk with us, Faora_ ,> said Zod in a soft tone that did not hide the reality of the order.

Kal and Faora followed Zod back to the bridge, and just off the entrance he stopped. Zod faced him directly, and Faora came to rest at their sides between them.

_ <Is this world...receptive to foreigners?> _

Faora looked at her general incredulously. Zod held a passive look. Kal didn't notice.

 _ <Sometimes,> _ Kal answered truthfully. _ <But not always.> _

< _Your pronunciation needs work_ ,> Faora cut in suddenly. Zod gave her side-eye. Kal held a sheepish look.

< _Sorry. This isn’t my first language. I learned it a short while ago._ >

Zod cocked his head and then nodded. _ <It seems this planet has been home to you for some time. My hope is that it can be ours as well. We are all survivors, and I believe we must stick together.> _

Kal considered his words. Kelex’s description of the Phantom Zone prisoners weren't very in-depth, but it was hard to reconcile his original idea of them with the people in front of him. Faora, admittedly, had the cold, harsh look Kal had expected, but even then she didn't appear to be malicious. 

From the archives, Kal knew that the two of them had wanted to overthrow the High Council’s oppressive rule. Judging by what he knew of the High Council he would have welcomed an end to their reign as well (though would probably disagree on method), but everything else regarding Zod and Faora was murky at best. He could understand the desire to find a home, but he had no evidence suggesting they were anything other than self-serving. Kal steeled himself, opting for confidence and calculation in lieu of caution and passivity.

< _What do you really want_?> he asked, looking Zod directly in the eye. Faora angled herself against him just slightly, responding to his change in turn. It did not go unnoticed.

< _I have just told you, Kal. > _

Kal continued to stare. < _There is something you’re omitting. Why bring a warship if war is not your intention? You could have arrived in something less threatening._ >

Faora’s expression hardened. Zod’s did not change despite the tension. _ <Options were limited.> _

_ <You don’t seem lost. You came here willingly and intentionally, so I’m assuming you’re aware of the benefits of this planet to people like us. There is no need for the added protection, especially not from natives. What would you need protection from?> _

Kal offered no hostility, but did not give any ground. Zod remained mostly unfazed, but his mouth set a bit. < _Our liberator. > _

_ <General!> _ Faora hissed, whipping her head around to face her superior with a look of cold confusion.

 _ <Silence.> _ Zod spoke to her but continued to look at Kal. Faora pursed her lips and held her tongue, looking away from both men.

< _So you didn’t escape the Phantom Zone on your own, > _ surmised Kal. Zod gave an impressed look. Faora's was downright hostile.

 _ <I see you know more than I originally gave you credit for. Unfortunately, that is correct. A…powerful figure set us free and bade us conquer this planet, but instead I choose to gather my defenses and prepare to make a stand should he come find us again. He seems formidable, so I deemed it appropriate to make a stand under a yellow star_.>

Kal took a moment to swallow this information. Great, now he had to worry about a new player. < _If he sent you here, don’t you think he would have accounted for that? > _

< _I assume as much, though I do not see how he could account for the rest of my plans. > _

_ <What else are you planning?> _

_ <To recruit you and the people of this planet. Surely you will all be willing to defend your home?> _

Kal’s expression darkened. Whatever course of action was taken here, one fact remained: no matter which side he was on, Zod was bringing a war to Earth. _ <If you need to be as powerful as we are here to face him, then the rest of Earth doesn’t stand a chance. You’re putting the planet’s entire population at risk.> _

_ <As they are now, it’s true. But with a little adjustment…> _

Kal’s eyes narrowed. < _What are you saying?_ >

Faora folded her arms, her disgruntled expression deepening as she stayed quiet. Zod answered with conviction. _ <If they were more like us, then they will also have the power to defend this planet_.>

Kal mulled over Zod’s words. If the Fortress’s archives were anything to go by, genetic engineering had been the backbone of Kryptonian society in many ways. Zod's implication made him angry.

 _ <No. They would never agree to that, and I won’t let you force it on them_.> Kal’s jaw clenched as he looked between the two other Kryptonians. Faora’s expression matched his own. _ <I want to help you, but you’ll have to find a different approach_.>

Zod placed a calming hand on Faora’s arm and returned Kal’s gaze. After a moment he made to respond, but was interrupted. Kelor’s disembodied voice came from what felt like everywhere.

< _General, there are seven small aircraft coming this way from the right. The possibility of friendliness is doubtful_.>

Kal pursed his lips. The ship was high up enough that no one on the ground would be able to make out what it was, but they were obviously on someone’s radar. For a warship, their cloaking capabilities didn’t seem to be working very well. Kal looked past Zod and through the right side of the ship. There were seven small single-passenger jets coming in fast a ways away. Remembering that they were probably in or somewhere close to American airspace, Kal cursed mentally.

< _I’ll take care of it_ ,> said Kal. _ <Don’t retaliate, and don’t antagonize.> _

In a blur of color Kal was gone, eliciting an impressed look from Zod. That speed was really something. He turned to Faora, now that they were alone. He reached out to stroke her face gently, and then slipped his hand down to wrap around her throat and squeeze. She froze.

< _I do not enjoy when my subordinates question me in front of my adversaries. You would do well to remember that_.>

The general eased his grip on her throat but left his fingers there, allowing some air.

 _ <Yes, General,> _ Faora responded breathily. She remained standing tall, but with closed body language. Zod removed his hand from her neck.

< _Jax will be the first. Administer his punishment, then deploy the drones. > _

Faora nodded. < _Dev as well?_ >

_ <No. He is still of use as he is. Take them with you to get in the sunlight. Defend the devices against Kal-El if necessary.> _

Faora took to the corridor again at a brisk pace. Zod continued to give orders. _ <Kelor, scan for the most populous areas and set the drones. Get the weapons systems online as well.> _

All measures had to be taken if his plan would come to fruition. He could not fail.


	16. Chaos Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end.

Such a short response time meant that people were aware of the warship’s presence and had already mobilized to act accordingly. It seemed too quick, even for the U.S. military, but Clark had almost no time to think of or enact a plan regardless. As soon as he made it into the open air, he was met with gunfire. 

The planes’ formation broke shortly after, splitting to fire from as many sides as possible. Clark weaved awkwardly between the aircraft hoping to get the pilots’ attentions at least, but what he saw was enough to give him pause. All of the cockpits were empty.

Automated offensive measures were a smart move by whomever sent the jets, but now it was obvious that Clark wasted valuable time. He didn’t know whether to be frustrated or relieved. Human lives were in no immediate danger, yet the moment for negotiation with the other Kryptonians was now past.

As Clark had expected, Zod did not acquiesce to his earlier demand. The warship launched quick and efficient countermeasures, firing beams of energy and shards of crystal from all sides. The automated jets’ own limited ammunition was ineffective in the effort to damage the Kryptonian vessel, so all they could do to defend themselves was evade. They were surprisingly adept at maneuvering and keeping themselves from getting hit, but they couldn’t keep it up forever. Clark watched as three were destroyed in rapid succession.

The din of the firefight offered clarity. Clark believed in the obligation to allow everyone the opportunity to do the right thing, but he knew he'd been incredibly naive. As soon as Zod had given his name, he should have gone on the offensive. He'd had the upper hand the entire time. But he screwed it up being too nice. Clark prayed his mistake wouldn't have the consequences he feared.

Dozens of turrets lined the ship’s bottom half. Regaining his wits, Clark barrel-rolled backwards and shot off in a tight arc. Steady blasts of heat vision took care of the guns with barely an ounce of effort, but he couldn't have it easy. As quickly as the turrets were destroyed, they were replaced by new ones. Clark x-rayed the ship to find several shaft-like constructions housing dozens of guns each, ready to be deployed upon the loss of the one before it. He grimaced. No one could say Kryptonians weren't prepared.

Heat and x-ray vision together made short work of the reserves, but not before they destroyed another plane. There were now only three, and a small part of Clark wondered if whoever controlled them would make the retreat, or continue to let them be fodder.

All the ship's projectile weaponry was demolished, but Clark didn't stop there. More heat vision sliced through the hull with no resistance like a sword through newsprint, and not for the first time he was impressed with his own power.

A perverse pleasure overtook him. Until recently, Clark had always used his abilities stealthily, and then mostly to protect others. But now, high above the ocean with nothing remotely fragile in sight, Clark tasted a new kind of freedom. All worry vanished as his heat vision surged to full power. He flew straight through whatever came into his path, barely noticing how debris crumpled and snapped as it came into contact with him. Setting his sights on the warship, he poured on the speed. The hull was durable, but clearly not enough to stop him.

Tearing straight through the metal shielding, Clark burrowed his way back over and across the bridge to shatter the crystal windshield on his way out. One of the jets came around then, matching his flight path to fire into the newly-made opening. Clark stopped to admire its handiwork and appreciated that the inside of the ship was not nearly as durable as the outside. The explosions that rocked the bridge wouldn’t have gone unnoticed even if there weren’t an AI on the ship, but Kelor certainly offered no time for rest. The disembodied voice rang loudly, seemingly coming from several parts of the ship at once.

< _Hull breached and bridge severely damaged, > _ said Kelor. _ <Engaging emergency defenses._>

Before Clark could find out what those measures entailed, he heard the release of the hangar doors somewhere below him. He wasn’t surprised - it was only a matter of time before Zod or the others on the ship came out to greet him. Wariness was appropriate, but Clark favored offense.

Diving to the lower half of the warship he almost collided with eight spherical devices rocketing from the hangar. Clark’s first decision was to race after them, but the appearance of Faora at the edge of the open ramp gave him pause. Two men stood with her, neither of whom Clark had yet encountered. One held a wild grin that unsettled Clark immensely, and the other had no expression at all.

The former Phantom Zone prisoners, now adorned with black scaly armor, dropped in unison out of the ship and into the sunlit air below. Clark watched dumbfounded as they nose-dived, freefalling like missiles until they started to slow. It had only taken seconds, but now they were floating in midair just as he was.

“ _Shit_ ,” mumbled Clark. Things just couldn’t be easy.

Clark had hoped that in the very real possibility of an altercation he’d at least have the upper hand regarding control of his abilities, but apparently the learning curve was much shorter. That advantage was dwindling as fast as they were flying toward him now.

Clark pushed the anxiety and anger as far down as he could and took off in the direction of the last sphere at several times the speed of sound. He needed to find and destroy those devices before they could do what they were programmed to do. Hopefully he’d be able to outfly the escapees.

“Kelex!” he yelled. No answer came. He kept flying, looking back to see if Faora and the others had gained on him, but they hadn’t. In fact, he couldn’t see any sign of them in his immediate vicinity.

“Kelex!” Clark called again.

“ _Yes, Kal_ ,” came Kelex’s voice this time. Clark huffed in relief.

“Zod and Faora escaped the Phantom Zone and are not friendly. They sent these machines out into the sky and I need to stop them before they cause trouble. Can you detect them?”

_“Of course. Two are over the United States, the others are over the Atlantic Ocean heading east.”_

“You’re amazing, Kelex. Where’s the one closest to me?”

“ _Just coming over Boston._ ”

“Great,” muttered Clark. That was fast. He put on more speed, x-raying down through the clouds to get a read on where he was. “Send your vessels and take out as many of them as you can. Keep the line open.”

Skimming southward above the east coast, Clark scanned the metropolitan hubs on the water. Boston wasn’t so far off, so Clark started to make his descent and started looking for his quandary. As he caught a glimpse of the device in the distance, Kelex came back online.

“ _The warship is descending, Kal._ ”

“Oh, come on," grumbled Clark, picking up speed. "Where’s it going?”

“ _Too soon to tell_.”

“Okay, keep me posted. I’m –”

Clark was tackled out of the sky, blindsided by one of Faora's companions. He had Clark by the ribcage, and before the latter could react he was met with a blow to the back of his head. Dazed and mildly surprised at feeling actual pain, Clark strained to focus his eyes. The other man was now floating in front of him, but Clark was still being held in midair from behind. He struggled in confusion but couldn't break free. 

< _You were right, Faora,_ > came a voice from beside him. < _Jax is much better like this._ >

Faora had Clark in a vice grip, restricting the use of his arms. Clark’s vision finally became clear, and the other two came into view. The one with the amused expression was clearly who’d spoken. He looked completely open and relaxed, incongruous given the circumstances. This one undoubtedly spelled trouble. But as worried as Clark was about his own safety at the moment, he was distracted by the look on Jax's face. His attack had been aggressive, but his face was as blank as it had been when Clark first saw him. It felt wrong.

< _Be thankful it’s not you, Daxamite,_ > said Faora.

There was only one Daxamite among the names Clark remembered from the archive’s list of Phantom Zone prisoners. He knew who it was.

< _You’re Dev-Em_ ,> said Clark, struggling against Faora. Dev snapped to attention at the mention of his name. An impressed look accompanied the smirk on his face.

< _I didn’t realize we would be so famous. How exciting, > said Dev. <I admit I am flattered that you know my name. It’s a shame no one told me yours._>

< _You destroyed the guns with your eyes. An interesting ability_ ,> Faora whispered in his ear. Clark was struggling against her and gaining some slack, but her grip was strong and she had more leverage. _ <I wonder if you can take being on the receiving end. Why don’t you try it, Jax?> _

Jax’s expression flickered, but remained mostly the same. Nothing else happened.

 _ <What did you do to him?> _ asked Clark through gritted teeth. Faora laughed softly. It was a cold, eerie sound.

< _Manipulation of his genetic code made him more docile and compliant. I eliminated the possibility of betrayal. An improvement, too, as he used to be quite the nuisance._ >

Clark looked at Jax again. His faculties definitely weren’t all there. The other man looked almost bored, and made no move. < _You’re sick. > _

< _Did you really think my general would plan to give anyone else this much power if we could not control them? > _

A flicker of panic went through Clark’s brain at the mention of General Zod. Finally the plan made sense, but that wouldn’t matter if Clark couldn’t find a way to defend against the two-pronged attack. 

Fortunately, it seemed Jax had not figured out how to use heat vision. Clark knew from experience that control was a skill that had to be meticulously learned, and had hoped that it wouldn’t be as easy for them to manage as flying was. Learning to fly was probably more a survival instinct given they’d jumped into open air, but this wasn’t. Clark wasn’t about to take any chances though.

He blasted his own heat vision at Jax’s left side, opting more for concussive force than high heat. Tucking his chin, he leaned away from Faora and shot forward, flying past Jax and continuing southward as he had been before being interrupted. Clark twisted into a high-speed barrel roll and pulled his arms in, which had the desired effect of flinging Faora off of him and into the open air. Clark put on another burst of speed and searched the skies for the device once more.

“Give me an update on the locations, Kelex.” He’d have to ask Kelex how this form of communication worked after all of this was over.

“ _I’ve destroyed two so far. The closest to you is now coming up on Gotham City. I cannot tell where they are headed, but their energy output is increasing_.” 

He’d just flown past New York City and would be there soon, but he knew it wouldn’t be long until Faora found him again. Clark accelerated to re-entry speed. He met no resistance along the way, and was on the outskirts of Gotham in thirty seconds. The automated sphere of metal and crystal was rocketing across the sky low over Gotham Heights in the northern part of the city, and he rushed to meet it.

Clark had never been to Gotham, at least nothing other than passing over it. He was both amazed and put off by the structure of the city, set like a spider web around a large park in the middle. The more developed parts were dominated primarily by Gothic architecture, the oddness of which eclipsed only by the fact that the city seemed to look dark and dim even in the daytime. That wasn’t normally the case with big cities on the coast. Unlike Los Angeles or even National City, everything here seemed disconsolate and old with sharp edges and towering shadows.

When he finally caught up to the sphere, his wariness increased exponentially. It wasn’t slowing down, so Gotham wasn’t its target, but it was suspiciously easy to stop from Clark’s point of view. Not wanting to waste time, he did the first thing that came to mind and squeezed. Two things happened at once. The metal crumpled inward like paper, and Clark was electrocuted.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up in a large dent on top of a car. Clark rolled off and onto the sidewalk.. There seemed to have been a small explosion between his loss of consciousness and coming to. 

The device was in pieces scattered across the expanse of the street, the adjacent storefront’s windows were completely shattered, and two women were lying on opposite ends of the sidewalk. One was blonde and wearing a black leather jacket, looking no older than Clark. The other rested awkwardly beside a broken flower pot, the dirt and single plant present mixing with her mess of red hair. A few others on the block were quickly making themselves scarce, walking into stores on the street or just making their way to the next block.

“ _Kal_.” Kelex’s transmission came back online. Clark forced himself to focus. “ _Four down so far. A word of caution: sometimes they blow up when destroyed_.”

“Thanks.”

Clark checked on both women to make sure they were alive. They were, though they did have minor injuries. He intended to have someone get help for them while he continued on his business, but this back street hadn’t had many people on it to begin with and was now deserted. The sound of cracking concrete interrupted him.

He turned to find Faora and Jax striding purposefully toward him in the center of the street. The latter’s armor was dulled and dented from Clark’s blast of heat vision. Jaw clenched in frustration, Clark met them with no courtesy.

 _ <This is your last chance,> _ called Clark, floating. _ <I’m willing to help you defend against whoever’s bidding you’re doing, but you have to stop this.> _

_ <We serve no one and nothing but Krypton!> _ Faora growled, her teeth bared. < _This planet and its people are ours. Concede, or we will go through you. > _

Faora lunged and Jax followed her lead, closing the short distance in less than a second. Clark whirled to evade the Kryptonian woman and landed in Jax’s path before moving to defend himself. He caught Jax by the arm and flung him in Faora’s direction. She jumped over him, leaving her subordinate to fly straight into the side of a red minivan, and flew directly at Clark. The move caught him off guard and, leaning the other way, he could only brace himself for the impact. Her gauntlet covered fist collided with his face, and he hit the ground hard.

Faora gave his stomach a swift kick, sending him bouncing off the roof of a car and into a brick wall on the other side of the street. Before he could get his bearings he was hit again, this time by Jax with what looked to be a broken street sign. Clark felt himself being grabbed by the throat, and opened his eyes fully. His jaw and ribs were throbbing, and he could feel blood dripping from his face. Faora had him raised off the ground with one hand, examining him with an air of cold ferocity.

< _We could be gods, Kal-El. Make Krypton anew in all its splendor…yet you fret over these lesser beings, > _ Faora mused. Her other hand twitched, almost acting of its own accord, and floated upward to his face. She stroked his lip with an uncharacteristically gentle caress, gathering a bit of blood on her finger. < _This one drop is worth more than all of them combined. Yet you disgrace your people._ >

Faora tossed him bodily to the side. Clark spat blood out of his mouth. 

_ <These _ are _my people. > _

Faora whipped back toward him at his words, and with a cry of fury moved faster than Clark had a chance to react. She dove, scooping him by the cape, and flew him straight up. All he could do was try to float in an effort to alleviate the tension of being yanked backwards, but it wasn’t enough as Faora wound him in a circle and brought her arm down hard, flinging him into a warehouse a couple blocks away.

There were people inside, some dressed in lab gear, some in casual clothing, and some in business attire. Most were confused and frozen in place, staring at him. The majority of the space in the warehouse was empty, but there were several tables with large cases, machines, and computers on them. Long, thick cables ran along the floor, most likely to be available for powering something big. Clark got to his feet. Getting battered repeatedly did a number on his patience, and he had a feeling things were about to get even messier. He wiped the blood off of his face and flicked his hand with a grimace.

Faora and Jax crashed through the roof and landed a few meters away.

“Get everyone out of here,” Clark ordered the nearest human. “Quickly.”

Faora’s eyes began to glow red, and Clark cursed inwardly. She let her heat vision loose on the small crowd as they fled the premises, but he was already moving. Speeding into its path, Clark propelled his own heat vision full blast to meet it. Faora clearly hadn’t anticipated the force, and was easily overpowered. With a grunt of pain she went down hard, face dark and steaming. Jax finally figured out how to utilize his own heat vision and followed her lead. He hit some of the equipment before Clark tackled him into the ground hard enough to crack the concrete floor. Jax’s body went limp.

Clark doubled back to assess Faora, who was just getting back up with an angry groan. He lunged with incredible speed, but she was ready. Whipping a forearm out to meet the other Kryptonian, Faora dropped him immediately. Before he could hit the ground, she caught him by the chin and wrenched him back upwards and twisted. Her knee surged upwards, slamming into Clark’s chest and propelling him back across the open space into a metal table. A few of the cases on top fell and split open.

Clark rolled to stand and doubled over in immense pain. It felt as if his head would split from the inside with the rest of his body soon to follow. His stomach tightened and his muscles felt like lead. All energy drained out of him, and it took formidable willpower just to keep himself on his hands and knees. He couldn’t even lift his head up. 

Never in his life had Clark felt so weak. He hadn’t thought he could, and now was the worst time to be proven wrong. Clark heard Faora coming closer, and resigned himself to his fate.

Hearing a thud and a crash to his left, Clark collapsed, the weight of his own body too much for him. His right side hit the concrete and his eyes struggled to focus. He’d been sure that he was about to get pummeled some more, but the onslaught hadn’t come. Now, a few feet away, he saw Faora writhing on the floor with anger and agony on her face. Clark’s confusion doubled. Whatever was affecting him had to be affecting her too, but he couldn’t tell the cause. 

Strewn across the floor a ways away were rocks, most the size of his fist. One of them stood out in particular, being almost ten times that size. All of them were glowing a deep, ethereal green. Clark’s mind reeled at the sight. It couldn’t just be rocks that had them so weak, could it? The thought of it was ludicrously bizarre. Yet it seemed the only explanation, as the glowing minerals were the only thing different about the environment from a moment ago.

Jax regained consciousness and started to make his way over to the two Kryptonians. Faora stopped him.

< _No! Go protect the drones. I will not have my general’s plan fail. > _

The Kryptonian’s voice was low but strong and commanding as always. Jax complied, flying up out of the warehouse the way he’d come. Clark saw Faora reach into her armor and pull out a small device. She clicked it, and then let her arm drop back toward the floor in exhaustion.

Clark’s jaw clenched. _I’m losing time,_ he thought. He needed to get away from those jagged rocks, and quickly. Blood and sweat dripped down the side of his face and onto the floor. He was almost hyperventilating now, sweating and deprived of air like he’d just run a marathon as a human. His lungs and mouth were raw, and he wished more than anything for the pain to stop.

Another moment passed before the environment changed again. Clark heard the taps of footsteps first, and then the source of the sound came into view. Dev had arrived, and was now strolling leisurely around the warehouse taking stock of the situation. He walked right past both Clark and Faora to pick up one of the glowing rocks. With pursed lips and a raised eyebrow he looked between the mineral and the two Kryptonians.

< _Where the hell have you been?_ > rasped Faora.

Dev walked over to her. < _This star does offer me similar abilities to you, but it seems I’m not as fast or as strong as a Kryptonian here. It took some time for me to catch up. > _

Clark watched as Dev crouched beside Faora. She squirmed and groaned, edging away from him in slow, desperate movements. He examined the rock in his hand again, and brought it closer to her face.

A short, pitiful cry came out of her mouth. Faora swatted at him weakly, still backing away as much as she could. But she was unable to escape the pain.

< _How interesting, > _ mumbled Dev. < _Looks like there are advantages to not being Kryptonian after all._ >

Dev looked behind him and made eye contact with Clark, who was too exhausted and hurt to feel worried. The air felt thick and his insides churned like there were razors in his bloodstream. Hunched and shivering, all Clark could manage was to watch Dev and see what he would do, and the Daxamite did something Clark had not expected.

Dev turned back and whipped his arm out in front of him, slamming the glowing mineral into Faora’s face. If Clark had felt anything other than pain, he would have cringed at the sound of the blow. Faora collapsed in a heap as Dev dropped the rock beside her and stood up. A cheerful expression replaced his neutral one.

Without a second glance at the unconscious body, he walked over with an air of confidence. The injured Kryptonian waited with mounting apprehension.

Dev wrenched him upward by the arm and tossed him over his shoulder, nearly knocking the wind out of him. Clark tensed as Dev shot upward and carried him out of the hole in the roof to dump him on top of the adjacent building. Now back in the sunlight and away from the rocks, Clark felt infinitely better. He took a deep breath.

< _You're welcome,_ > called Dev, smiling. Clark stood opposite him several feet away. Dev gave an expectant look, but Clark didn't answer. < _We should talk._ >

Clark eyed him suspiciously. < _What do you want?_ >

Dev stretched languidly from side to side, arms above his head. He clearly did not consider the current situation with as much gravity as Clark did. < _Let me first tell you what I don’t want: to be involved with whatever mess Zod has planned with the person who freed us. I’m coming to enjoy my freedom in this part of the universe, and I don’t want that meddled with. Besides, it’s really none of my business._ >

< _Aren’t you on their side? You were freed right along with them._ >

< _They were a means to an end. I only repaired the ship’s phantom drive, which, as you can see, served to benefit me just as much as it did them. Not as powerful as you all, but still plenty powerful._ >

Anger flared inside Clark. < _So_ you’re _the reason they’re here._ >

Dev hesitated, cocking his head. < _Well yes, technically. But that’s in the past, and right now I have more important information. You’ll want to hear what I have to say._ >

< _You must have been in the Phantom Zone for a reason. Why should I trust you?_ >

Clark noticed a change in the Daxamite’s eyes. Dev answered with a much more serious tone than before. _ <Krypton was not a sanctuary for foreigners. If a refugee ended up there, I assure you it was an absolute last resort. I was imprisoned for being a Daxamite. Nothing more, and nothing less.> _

Clark knew from his studies how prejudiced Kryptonian society was, and how dangerous it had the potential to be for anyone from another planet. He was well aware of the similarities on Earth, yet his sympathy for Dev was not enough. The best liars lie with the truth, and Clark didn’t have all the details. One thing he did know: not all foreigners rounded up after Zod’s rebellion were sent to the Phantom Zone. So why him?

There was something Dev had not divulged. But Clark thought it imprudent to garner further hostility from someone who had just ceased it. He asked a different question. < _Then why leave Daxam?_ >

Dev stared at Clark, relaxing again. Clark wasn’t sure he’d answer, but he eventually did. < _Civil unrest turned into civil war upon the deaths of an entire royal family._ >

Dev did not elaborate further. Clark nodded silently.

< _None of that matters at the moment, > _ said Dev. _ <We want the same thing in the short term, and neither of us can get rid of those insufferable Kryptonians on our own. I’m being cordial, but you don’t exactly have a choice here.> _

Clark pursed his lips, still on guard. _ <How do I know you’re not just manipulating me like you did them?> _

Dev laughed. It was a light sound, a melodious thing that unsettled Clark not because of any malice, but for the lack thereof. < _Oh, I certainly am. But I just saved you back there, which means you now have the upper hand should I betray you. Will you listen or not?_ >

Clark knew he was wasting time. He knew that the man in front of him was as duplicitous as any he’d ever known. But he also knew that even with Kelex he was in over his head. Clark wouldn’t be able to get through this ordeal alone. After a few seconds of silence, Clark nodded. < _Fine._ >

< _Wonderful,_ > said Dev, lapsing into his spiel. < _Those devices flying around this planet right now are designed to alter the population, making these people more like you but extremely docile. Like Jax, who you’ve already met, but this process will take considerably more time._ >

< _I_ ' _ve already_ _enlisted some help in destroying them,_ > said Clark.

< _Good. They serve two other functions as well, the first being outright destruction. Their method of gene manipulation is based on energy projection, not a form of inoculation-_ >

< _So at close ranges it only serves to kill people and impact the environment,_ > followed Clark. Dev nodded with a small look of surprise.

_ <Yes. The second function is reconnaissance. They’re meant to scan for the easiest places to terraform.> _

Clark froze. Even with his crash course in Kryptonian technology, he hadn’t expected that to be part of Zod’s plan. Panic started to set in. Something as small as a softball was able to create the entire Fortress. A warship could house something significantly bigger that could affect a much larger portion of land.

< _How do they plan on doing that? Are they really capable of changing the entire planet right now?_ >

< _I’m not privy to the specifics, but it’s likely not meant for the whole planet. Drastically changing the environment would kill a significant portion of the population, and I doubt the general would want to lose so many precious soldiers._ >

Clark considered Dev’s words. He didn’t have time to think of other options. The stakes kept growing and he was up to his hair in fear and adrenaline. The entire world was on the line, and at that moment it was all in Clark’s hands.

< _Okay. Given this is all your idea, I assume you have a plan._ >

Dev offered an amiable expression. < _Of course. It’s not very structured yet I daresay it’ll be quite effective. But don’t worry, I won’t be killing or maiming anyone today. Something tells me you care about that sort of thing._ >

Clark gave a small, exasperated sigh. Dev’s nonchalance was really grating on him. < _You’re right, I do. I’ll take care of the rest of those devices. What’ll you do?_ >

Dev walked backward toward the edge of the building. Another wide grin blossomed over his face. < _Cause some chaos, of course._ >

Dev turned and shot off into the sky at the speed of sound, leaving Clark to wonder what the hell he was getting into. He x-rayed the buildings around him and found the warehouse, with Faora still on the ground inside. Without a shred of sympathy, Clark took to the air once more.

*************

Lana’s day had gone south rather quickly. Meeting Clark during the expo took a sharp dive, and when Lana saw him make for the exit she knew something was extremely wrong. Her mess of feelings after their conversation already served to distract her while tending to the bustling crowd of expo attendees, but worse now was the eruption of dread she’d been suppressing and not just from Clark’s words. Lana had no idea why he’d left, and yet, that didn’t stop her from assuming she’d caused it. Part of her screamed that Clark wouldn’t leave her if something was wrong between them. Nevertheless, he wasn’t here now, and anxiety grabbed her heart and held it for ransom.

Doubt was sunlight in a magnifying glass, focused and burning a hole into her sense of faith. She’d known it was just a matter of time before her elation at being with the boy she loved was eclipsed by her self-sabotaging tendencies, so this wasn’t a surprise. Lana did her best to level her thoughts, but the fact that Clark left the expo, which was really important to her, didn’t help. He hadn’t even texted to let her know. Something must have happened. But then again, Lana had never dismissed him the way she had, at least not while they were together. Maybe he was mad or hurt and left because of it.

Now, taking a break in one of the hall’s back rooms, Lana sat next to Lena in a cheap metal folding chair. She couldn’t stop herself from staring unfocused at the floor. Her face felt neutral, but to Lena that wouldn’t be very convincing, or much of a deterrent for that matter. She could feel the brunette watching her, but she didn’t care to address it. She soon found she didn’t have to.

“What’s going on?” Lena deadpanned. The small room seemed even smaller somehow, and Lana’s jaw clenched involuntarily. Lena’s face was expressionless, and somehow that made it more unsettling.

“Nothing.”

Lena whipped out her phone and started sliding her thumb rapidly over the touchscreen. “Bullshit. You’ve been excited as hell for this thing. Anything less than a victory jig means something’s up.”

Lana turned to Lena full on. “Look, it’s nothing. Just something on my mind, and I’m being emotional for no reason. It’s not important right now.”

Lena fought the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t normally one to talk about feelings; it’d been drilled into her head by a certain mother figure that emotions were a weakness, for women especially, and therefore should never be considered or dwelled upon. Luthors were meant to outsmart and outperform anyone and everyone; emotions provided no advantages and only played into the hands of those who already thought them too emotional. Lena shook her head, clearing it of her knee-jerk reaction. _No. Emotions are natural,_ she told herself. Lana needed support, not contempt and belittlement. 

“No one is emotional for no reason. Be it all you want,” said Lena. “What happened?”

It took a moment for Lana to answer. “Clark’s not here anymore. He left.”

“What? When?” said Lena immediately, looking up from her phone. “And why?”

Lana chuckled despite herself, but with what could barely be called a smile. “I don’t know. I saw him leave after Gerry finished up with that reporter from the Daily Planet. He didn’t say why, and he hasn’t called or texted.”

“Did you ask him?” Lana shook her head. Lena stashed her phone again and leaned forward with full attention. “That must’ve been right after I left you. Gerry wasn’t with the reporter for that long. Did something else happen? You two seemed pretty happy when you introduced me.”

Lana heaved a sigh and ran a hand through her hair. “He wanted to share something important with me. It caught me off guard and scared the hell out of me and I might as well have told him to fuck off.”

Lena gave her a sympathetic look. In truth, she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have many friends, and had never actually been in a committed relationship. 

“I’m such a fucking idiot. He needed support and I gave him nothing,” mumbled Lana, scowling. “Worse than nothing.”

“Hey,” said Lena softly, “I’m sure it’ll sort itself out if you talk to him. It might not have even been that. Maybe something else happened that was independent of you, something urgent. But you have a phone, so get in touch with him. Don’t make any judgements without having the facts.”

Lana nodded absentmindedly. She knew she was making assumptions, but it was helpful to hear it from someone other than herself.

“Go ahead, do it now,” goaded Lena with an upward nod of her head in the other woman’s direction. “I’ll be here.”

Lana huffed an exhale and retrieved her phone. Maybe if she just powered through it and ignored the doubt it would go away. She made the call.

Lena’s gaze centered on Lana, but her mind drifted elsewhere. She wondered what Lillian would say if she knew the extent of her social life. Not that she actually had much of one, but she at least tried to keep in touch with old school acquaintances and maintain good relationships with the fellows. Admittedly, Lena felt odd in this current situation, not really having a template for comfort and sympathy, but she tried her best. That’s what normal people did, right?

Lena watched Lana put the phone to her ear and wait. The room was tensely silent for a moment until Lana huffed impatiently and redialed. Nothing happened this time either. Lena looked at the other girl sympathetically as she pursed her lips and clenched her jaw in frustration. 

“Shit,” hissed Lana. Putting her phone back into her pocket, she made her way to the door.

"Wait-"

Lena followed. Back out in the hallway leading to the expo, she was hit with more noise than she’d anticipated. The normal din from the idle chatter of hundreds of people was to be expected, but this was significantly louder. Before she could catch up to Lana and get her to settle down, they were met by one of the other fellows. She came jogging down into the edge of the hallway after pushing her way through a small crowd, her long black ponytail swinging behind her.

“There you guys are,” Sitara declared in a huff. “Everyone’s been looking for you.”

“Why?” said Lana a little too forcefully. Lena sighed at her friend’s irritability. “We haven’t been gone that long.”

Sitara looked back and forth between the two girls, raising an eyebrow at the redhead. “You don’t know what’s going on.”

Lena looked up and down the hallway for any clues. Most had retreated into the main hall, so she found none. “Did something happen inside?”

“No,” Sitara replied as she started to lead them back into the main hall, “but something happened _outside_.”

Sitara continued to lead them inward, aggressively pushing her way through the crowds of people back toward the general area they’d been before. In the middle of the hall was a large cylindrical column with monitors mounted high around it. Sitara pointed up at them. They were all playing the same thing, and gave Lena a sense of déjà vu. On the screen was an oddly shaped aircraft suspended in midair with no visible means of propulsion. It was an aerial shot, shaky and just a bit out of focus, but it got the job done. The headline toward the bottom of the screen read: UNIDENTIFIED AIRCRAFT ABOVE GOTHAM BAY.

Lena looked at Lana, whose expression was practically unreadable. No confusion or surprise, just a look of mild preoccupation on her face. Lena looked back at the screens and raised her voice so Sitara could hear her.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Sitara nodded, passing Lena her phone. It was open on the young woman’s Twitter feed, refined with the search for the hashtag _#gothamUFO_. Lena scrolled quickly through the dozens of tweets that were already up, completely baffled. This was becoming the year of the impossible.

********************

Faora could feel herself slipping away, hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness in a relentless haze of agony. Lying on the concrete amidst the glowing rocks and scattered metal, she remembered her days training at the citadel in Kandor. The higher levels were grueling, to put it lightly, and some types of mental and physical conditioning were tantamount to torture. But this was something else entirely. All the pain that came from training was bearable in the way that she could feel it being done to her. It came from the outside. Now, her own body was betraying her, attaining new levels of pain from the inside out. Even when staring down a weapon, she felt confident in her ability to survive. All she felt now was fear.

A loud crash rocked her eardrums and shocked her back into awareness. With vision still blurred, Faora made the herculean effort to get back on her feet. Burning muscles and a wave of nausea said her body wouldn’t let her. She was weaker than she’d ever been in her life, and at most she could only crawl. Eventually, Faora found the focus to see what had made the sound, and was relieved to find her general regarding her with a calculating expression. He’d received her distress beacon.

Relief faded into panic as he floated closer with an obvious handle on some of his newfound abilities.

< _Wait! Don’t come closer!_ > Faora croaked. The sound tore through her throat like shattered glass and elicited a look of confusion from the other Kryptonian. < _The rocks…they cause pain._ >

The blood and sweat that clung to her exposed skin served as ample evidence, but all Zod needed was to see the anguish in his lieutenant’s eyes. His eyes darted across the warehouse quickly, scanning his surroundings. Then he went to work.

Giving Faora a wide berth, Zod floated over and dislodged one of the cables from where it was bolted into the floor. He looked into his lieutenant’s eyes with a rare softness; he detested seeing her in unnecessary pain. It took a few tries to whip the cable over to get it within her reach without hitting her, but he managed. Once Faora had a good enough grip on the cable, Zod pulled her to him and took her into his arms. She clung to him with newfound strength as he flew them out the way he came, into the sunlight and back towards the warship.


	17. Reward and Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Luthors have a meeting.

The sky was clear. Clark hadn’t come across a second wave of human forces, and it struck him as odd. It was American nature to meet a problem with brute force, but something wasn’t adding up. Mobilization of the military didn’t happen that fast, did it? And even then, would the government have reacted so early on? Clark really had no reference for any of it, but his gut cautioned suspicion.

Back in the sunlight, another layer of unease developed within him. If something like a few glowing rocks could affect him so gravely, what other things did he have to be wary about? Clark definitely didn’t want to run into anything else that could weaken him, but there was no way to avoid the unknown. The tendrils of paranoia would easily ensnare him if he wasn’t careful.

Still, personal safety took its place on the backburner. He had a job to do.

“Kelex,” he voiced against the wind, scanning for any company. “Update.”

The answer was surprisingly immediate. _“The last three devices have stopped. They seem to be operational and carrying out their objective."_

Clark grunted in frustration. They were already too late, and he had no way of knowing how many innocent people were already affected. He flew faster. “Where are you?”

_“On course to destroy the one settled over Mexico City. Another is over Tokyo and the last is close to Delhi. Only one of my vessels is undamaged enough to continue assisting you, so this will likely be the last I can help with.”_

Clark made a hard left and tore back westward through the sky at reentry speeds. These were three of the most populous areas in the world. He was sure this wasn’t a coincidence.

“You’ve been a life-saver, Kelex. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

_“Probability calculations suggest that the situation would be much worse.”_

Clark chuckled despite himself. “Yeah, probably.”

He continued flying, aiming for Delhi and unaware of the vibrations coming from his pocket.

Lena leaned against the wall beside the entrance to LuthorCorp Tower, watching Lana pace back and forth along the sidewalk talking a mile a minute into her phone. In a fit of anxious energy the redhead had decided to call Clark’s mother. Lena felt it was a bit excessive after having called Clark already, but of course hadn’t voiced her opinion. She was sure she didn’t have all the facts anyway.

Sitara’s sudden news brought Lena more energy than she knew what to do with, and an odd buzz enveloped her body as if she were full of caffeine. The scientist in her itched to do all it could to answer the questions multiplying in her head. In just a couple of months, everyone’s sense of normal was flipped upside down because of the Flying Man, and now there was a giant floating spaceship over Gotham Bay. Lena reasoned that most people in the area wouldn’t have believed in its alien nature had they not already been exposed to the anomaly that was the Flying Man. It was human nature to make an effort to rationalize things that didn’t immediately make sense. Granted, Twitter was known for conspiracy theory threads so the hashtag would have been up regardless, but some local news outlets had already begun to take it seriously. And now Lena wondered if the Flying Man, catalyst as he was, happened to be connected to what was happening now. She’d bet money that he was.

“Hundred dollar bill for your thoughts,” came a voice to Lena’s left. She turned to see Lex sauntering over with his hands in his pockets, impeccably dressed as always. Now he was wearing a dark green tailored suit and a haughty expression not unlike the one he tended to have around Lionel. Lena always saw it as performative and overcompensating, but she had to admit he was very convincing. A wave of uneasiness washed over Lena, ebbing and flowing before settling in the pit of her stomach. It surprised her.

“You know, I hope it is aliens,” he mused. “That would make things interesting.”

Lena continued to stare ahead. “This is not how I would’ve liked this day to go. I wish Mercy were here.”

“Though I must say if things continue as they have been, we are unfortunately at a considerable disadvantage.”

“It was supposed to be about the fellows’ hard work.”

“I suppose with minds like ours we could rectify that problem…”

“It’d be nice if I could just have one day to celebrate an accomplishment without it being ruined somehow.”

Lex had been staring out into the street like his half-sister but now moved to face her directly, uncharacteristically abandoning his own subject and capitulating to hers. They had learned to voice their own independent musings at each other from when Lena was very young, an exercise in dominance orchestrated by Lillian. She reasoned someone of their stature should always be in control of the conversation, and so forced them to learn to barrel through others’ words. Lex found it helpful and informative; Lena thought it was rude, but played along anyway.

“It is dangerously unwise to dabble in self-pity, Lena.”

Lena glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, then looked back at Lana, who was now shoving her phone into the back left pocket of her pants. “I am merely voicing an obvious opinion. It can be helpful in its catharsis so long as it’s not dwelled upon.”

“Some would say it is a sign of weakness.”

“Well then I guess it’s good we were trained not to give a shit about what others say. The dogs to our parents’ Pavlov, with both reward and punishment.”

“How dramatic an analogy,” drawled Lex. He sounded almost bored. With a swipe of his hand he unbuttoned the jacket of his suit, letting it flow open and move with the light breeze.

“But appropriate, isn’t it?” Lena asked in all seriousness, facing him now. “We were groomed, Lex, not raised.”

“People like us don’t grow up like the average. I wouldn’t call it a bad thing - our lives will chart a path not many could ever take because of it.” 

A clouded look fell over Lena’s face. Money, power and position would be beneficial to everything she wanted to do. That much was true. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that the universe would make her pay for it, and the price would be steep. 

“Better that than the alternative,” said Lex. “I’d dread being ordinary. Just the thought of it sickens me.”

Lena’s eyes probed her brother’s face. It was passive, as if they were talking about the weather or Metropolis’s traffic problem, yet his tone was biting. Lena had always regarded him as more similar to herself than he was to his parents, but his answer suddenly made her question it. “Do you really think us above everyone else, Lex?”

Lex did not answer immediately, but instead retrieved his cell phone from his inside jacket pocket. He checked it and then stashed it again. “Happenstance bestowed power and privilege unto us both. Of course we are.”

Without another word Lex went back inside, leaving Lena to stare after him. Making his way through the crowds in the lobby and expo hall, Lex trudged around the back entranceway to the private elevators with haste. A message from his mother had given him reprieve from his conversation with Lena and also required his presence. Even though Lex was secure in his position as her favorite he was not naïve enough to expect anything bordering on affection or sentiment. Everything Lillian did was business.

Upon entering the elevator Lex produced his LuthorCorp ID and waved it over the sensor above the number pad. His fingers danced over the screen, inputting 588467, and the giant metal box began to move upward. Lex stared at his reflection in the polished walls of the elevator, regarding himself with a conscious lack of emotion. He could see he was balding and thought of his father’s full head of hair. Male pattern baldness was hereditary through the mother’s side, but comparing himself to Lionel was a years-long habit not likely to be broken any time soon. Lex made the decision then and there to start shaving his head until all his hair was gone. He kept staring.

The elevator slowed and finally came to a stop at the 33rd floor before crawling upward again until the keypad monitor displayed 33L. Then the doors opened.

Lex saw his mother immediately, sitting at a computer hookup more advanced than anything available in the rest of the building. There were several large monitors displaying various video feeds along with a few tables that sported a Bankers Box of paperwork each. The space was deceptively small, for much of the back area of the floor was closed off from the space by the elevator for further construction should it be required. Lex ambled over to his mother, who did not acknowledge him. She stared intently at one of the monitors displaying looping video feeds of the insides of small aircraft large enough only to be piloted by one person each.

The feeds were of several different angles, but it was evident the aircraft were automated. Given the fields of view from within the planes, body parts of the pilots should have been easily visible, yet there were none. The videos showed them flying toward some massive object before being cut off from the left by a streak of blue that Lex recognized as the Flying Man. Seconds later, the screen was engulfed in light and the feed cut out.

“What is this?” Lex asked his mother. Finally, she turned to him.

“Reconnaissance.” Lillian’s voice dripped with bored interest but a smirk graced her face nonetheless. “During our last deal with the Air Force I commissioned the manufacture of several fighter aircraft in excess – enough for a small squadron. Then I hired others to make it so they can be controlled remotely. Off the books, of course.”

Lex wasn’t surprised. He watched the loop again before answering. “How did you manage it so quickly?”

“I pay people handsomely to position themselves where I’d have use for them, whether they know it or not.”

Lex fought the urge to roll his eyes. He knew that if he didn’t get a straight answer from his mother the first time, he wouldn’t get one at all. But he shrugged it off. At this juncture the details weren’t so important.

“What information does all this have to offer then?”

Lillian turned back to the screens. “Judging by how utterly futile mounting an attack against this… thing in the sky was, it’s considerably more durable than practically anything we’ve seen before.”

“And the do-gooder?” pressed Lex as he walked over to sit beside his mother.

“Just as durable, it seems, but I’m not surprised. It would be intuitive to assume that anyone who can easily carry an airplane would be able to withstand considerable amounts of force.”

“Of course.”

Lillian nodded to one of the screens. “What can you tell me about his presence at the scene, Lex?”

Lillian looked back to examine her son with an expectant expression, and Lex’s jaw clenched in impatience. This was something his mother loved to do – an exercise in deduction – but in the current situation it grated on his nerves. Preparation and practice were all well and good, but Lex was not fond of being made to feel like a child.

“I appreciate the exercise,” he responded coolly, “but is it prudent at such a time?”

Lillian merely raised an eyebrow as the elevator doors opened again. Six feet and two inches came out wearing a dark suit and a determined expression.

“Good. You’re already here,” said Lionel. “Something’s happened.”

“I’m assuming you’re not referring to the large alien spaceship above Gotham Bay,” answered Lex.

“Quite correct. Looks like you won’t get the chance to provoke him like you wanted.” Lex’s brow furrowed at his father’s response. The elder Luthor continued. “I’ve already sent you the feeds, Lillian. If you could bring them up on the screens?”

Lillian checked her tablet. Soon, all the monitors were displaying a different video. It showed a warehouse and people setting up lab equipment and generators. Next the feed cut to the Flying Man engaged in a physical battle with two other people, but it was hard to see. At first Lex thought the video itself had gone fuzzy with low resolution, but soon he realized that the blur of colors were due to the speed at which the subjects moved.

The next part of the video immediately captured his full attention. Lex watched rapt as two hit the ground amidst the scattered rocks one after the other, and was stunned to see the expressions of pain that ensued. The woman’s reaction had intrigued him the most, as he had just seen the Flying Man take a short beating. She had no obvious reason to feel pain, yet here she was on the ground struggling to get back to her feet like her colorful opponent. 

Before Lex could ruminate further, the video skipped again to show a fourth player, dressed similarly to the antagonizers but seemingly immune. He carried the Flying Man away while leaving the woman. The video skipped again, showing yet another person now doing the same for the woman. Finally, the video ended.

Lex eventually broke the silence that ensued. “What fortune we have…”

“Fortune, Lex?” repeated Lillian, giving her son her full attention for the first time that afternoon. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t describe this situation similarly.”

Lex didn’t answer.

“There is obviously a lot to learn here,” said Lionel, “but we must tread carefully.”

Lillian pursed her lips impatiently, looking between the two men. “There doesn’t seem to be much we can do at the present time given the circumstances.”

“We can hurt them,” offered Lex, head snapping left to give his mother an incredulous look. “They can be hurt! Did you not watch the same video I did? They didn’t even need to touch those rocks for them to be affected. We’ve just discovered a way to weaken these creatures without hurting ourselves, and you believe there is nothing we can do?”

The longer Lex spoke, the more animated he became. He looked over to his father, whose returning look was that of a patient teacher’s. Lex knew Lionel probably had his own take on the situation, but he was too revved up to concede.

“No one else knows the details we know. Those invaders mean us no good will and it is unlikely that our resident hero will be able to put a stop to whatever is going on by himself. We can solve this before things really get out of hand. Defend ourselves as humans against whatever these things are.”

“No,” cut Lionel’s voice with a tone of finality. Confusion swept across his son’s face. He’d expected Lionel to interject, but not with that response.

“What?”

“No. We only just learned this and still don’t have all of the information. Given how powerful these beings are, facing them directly in any way is tantamount to suicide and even with these radioactive minerals we’d only have one chance to get it right. We must not show our hand just yet. Besides, we don’t know for sure whether this mineral is harmful to humans or not. It’s too early.”

Lex knew on some level that his father was right – that he was being hasty. Yet, he looked at the screens once more and thought of every headline and video he’d seen of the Flying Man until then. He could see the future: dependence on this being will become a crutch – a need akin to breathing. There were already mentions of him on the news every week, and soon people will look to him first before looking to their own. It was absurd to put their faith in the hands of a man nobody truly knew – a man who clearly wasn’t human. If there was a threat against humanity, then humans should be the ones to rise to meet it. “Are you supposing we let him save us?”

“He seems to be formidable enough to hold his own against multiple people on his own level, at least for a little while. But no. I agree that we need to take action, but not nearly as bluntly as you’re suggesting, Lex.”

Lillian gave her husband a pensive look, narrowing her eyes. Lex figured she had her own ideas, but Lionel, perfectly poised as always, looked as though he’d already put together an entire plan. Knowing him, he had. “What are you proposing, Lionel?”

“We cannot use the minerals. For now, let’s keep this between us unless coming forward is absolutely necessary. It would be unwise to tip our hand and garner the animosity of the Flying Man –”

“We need a better name for him,” interjected Lex in a low voice.

“– for having and using something potentially harmful to him. What if we all survive this and then he turns on us because he feels threatened? That’s not something we need.”

“You want to make him – and everyone – feel like we’re on the same side,” hypothesized Lillian.

“Precisely. At this point, the others in the video are the threat. When things get worse, and they will, we should assist the common people in any way we can while he handles the rest. That includes evacuations, shelters, money, and complying with the police and fire departments. So far his actions have suggested helping people is a top priority for him. We must show that it’s the same for us.”

Lex raised an eyebrow at his parents. Lillian merely nodded.

“Yes,” she said matter-of-factly. “That’s quite sensible. It would reap excellent publicity and solidify our reputation in terms of humanitarian efforts. Though I would suggest providing technological support for the military as well, should it come to that.”

Lionel gave a grunt of agreement. Lex stared daggers, but conceded a nod to both.

“Why isn’t Lena here?” asked Lex.

The eldest Luthor heaved a sigh. “I didn’t want to make her day any more complicated than it’s already gotten. She can worry about this later.”

“You coddle her too much,” said Lillian. 

Lionel pulled a vibrating cell phone out of his breast pocket, ignoring his wife. He took the call while the others waited in a silent mix of restlessness and frustration. It was a short one.

“That was Miss Graves. She’s still in Tokyo.”

“I thought she’d be in the air by now,” said Lillian.

“The flight was delayed,” Lionel waved on, “but we have a bigger issue. Metropolis isn’t the only place with…alien presence. It seems to be a global phenomenon.”

***********************************

A whirlwind of disappointment and frustration raged beneath Zod’s expressionless face. For years he’d climbed Krypton’s military ranks, adopting an artificial detachment so that logic and prudence always came first. But it had merely been something he could access or toggle on and off. Now, it felt as if he’d become that detachment, and less because of it. Faora’s loss did not escape him either – controlled ruthlessness now tempered with emotion. The Phantom Zone took something from them, hollowed them out, and now the unfamiliar sensation of doubt made its acquaintance.

Faora recounted how she’d ended up in that situation, much to her general’s disappointment. Zod made sure to put her through a full body scan in the infirmary, and was both relieved and perplexed at Kelor’s findings. Faora was mostly fine, albeit drained, but the discovery of this radioactive mineral was troubling. They were to be gods on this planet, and yet something as insignificant as a rock rendered them weaklings.

Furthermore, they had failed to subdue Kal-El. Zod had no idea how many humans his devices would affect before the young Kryptonian managed to destroy them. It would take time for the physical changes to manifest in the humans, but the devices needed to do their jobs first. It was frustrating to entertain the idea that even with their strength in numbers and superior technology, there was a chance that they could be thwarted by Jor-El’s son, who obviously saw himself as more human than Kryptonian. The irony was not lost on Zod.

Floating among what was left of the bridge, he reassessed the plan. Kelor had given him the damage report of the ship, and now down to less than a quarter power with only reserve weaponry, Zod realized how unprepared they’d been. He’d underestimated Kal, and the ignorance of his existence dismantled Zod’s plan entirely. With an even darker look Zod wondered if the one who’d set them free had known of Kal’s life on Earth. It was likely. Disgust and indignation flared within the Kryptonian. Free from the Phantom Zone at last only to be the plaything of something so much more powerful.

Zod heard shuffling among the rubble. Dev had returned, and was now balancing idly atop large tufts of debris like a child without a care.

 _ <Have you done as I commanded?> _ asked Zod. Dev did not look at him, but answered.

_ <I have. He believes that he and I have a tentative partnership, and that I’ve double-crossed you.> _

_ <Good. That will give us an edge while still learning to use our new abilities. Are you certain he suspects nothing?> _

Dev hopped off a metal beam and stayed afloat. _ <He’s not naive enough to trust me, but he is good-natured. He’ll be wary of my betrayal but would never betray me outright. I don’t think we have much to worry about.> _

Zod nodded, lamenting being on opposing sides with one of the last Kryptonians in existence. He would have preferred to have Jor’s son on his side, but his plans were far more important.

_ <Faora told me of what transpired between the three of you. It is fortunate that at least one of us is immune to those minerals’ effects.> _

_ <Oh, this?> _ said Dev, producing the small glowing rock from his armor. < _I thought you might like a sample, though I would advise to let Kelor handle it._ >

Dev’s amused look never left his face. Zod eyed the mineral warily across the expanse of the bridge. < _Agreed._ >

Zod gave the command to Kelor, who sent a small flying vessel to take the object from Dev. It disappeared into the corridor. After a moment, Dev moved to do the same.

_ <Where are you going?> _

Dev faced the general with a patient look. _ <The engine room. Part of it was damaged when Jax attacked me, so I should check the phantom drive. Just because it worked once doesn’t mean it’s fully operational.> _

Zod stared for a beat, then nodded. _ <Do it quickly. I surmise we will need all hands soon.> _

Dev gave a curt nod and left Zod to continue his ruminations.


	18. Intimidation Tactics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phase Two of the plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I should have at least one chapter pass the Bechdel test, right?

Lana sat at the end of the long table at the back of the lab, feet propped up on the surface and hands occupied with opening a small bag of jalapeño corn chips. To her left sat Lena, hunched over an expensive wristwatch that lay in pieces next to a small case of tools. A tiny screwdriver whirled its way through her fingers.

Lena had invited Lana down here in an effort to get both their minds off current events. Using her hands and having a project worked wonders for Lena, and she hoped it would help the redhead as well. What was supposed to be a quick run-through on watch anatomy turned out to be a full-on lecture, and now Lena was reassembling her own accessory with the casual speed of a veteran. Her pace belied the meticulousness of her movements; it was easy to get lost in the mindlessness of rote performance. 

“I know you’re just trying to distract me,” said Lana, “but I appreciate it.”

Ever the multitasker, Lena answered immediately. “Don’t know what you mean. I just wanted company while I fixed my watch.”

Lana gave her a look. “It wasn’t broken. And it would’ve taken you less time to do it silently instead of teaching me watch maintenance for almost an hour.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No. Okay, maybe.”

“Well, _maybe_ I’m teaching you so next time I won’t have to do it myself. I can be incredibly lazy.”

“Right. Miss ‘I have a Master’s degree at 19’ is lazy.”

Nimble hands attached the outer casing, finally completing the reassembly. Lena tried to keep her budding smile under control at Lana’s words and failed spectacularly. She snuck a look at the redhead. Lana was suddenly much closer, brushing her hair behind her ear and ducking her head low. Lena hadn’t seen her move, and now the lack of distance between them was intensely apparent. She brought the watch up to her ear. A soft ticking filled the air. 

The two of them were encased in a bubble of silence save for the noise of the watch. All ambient sounds faded away. Lena was acutely aware of the cold metal on her fingertips, the chill of the air conditioned lab, and the soft smell of vanilla mixed with the tiniest whiff of jalapeño. Lana turned and grinned at her just then, and Lena’s breath caught in her chest.

Had Lana’s eyes always been so bright? Lena wasn’t sure. Normally they were a light brown, and now so much so that even under fluorescent lights they seemed to turn a dark gold. Lena returned a small, tentative smile but looked away quickly. A warm buzz crept its way up her neck. She willfully ignored it.

Suddenly she was back in boarding school, fifteen again and overwhelmed with the fluttering realization that she wasn’t only romantically interested in boys (in fact, she was more than positive now that she preferred girls by a large margin). Her longtime crush on one of her only friends, Jack, was nearly eclipsed by a sudden and tumultuous fling with a girl named Veronica. The weeks after had Lena enduring nightmares about Jack and Veronica, and sometimes both at the same time. It had been a rude awakening, to say the least.

Now, Lena cursed the abruptness with which her feelings tended to develop. The entire length of the fellowship had gone by and she’d felt nothing other than cordiality with the other fellows and mild camaraderie with her roommates. Unfortunately, that seemed to be changing very quickly in one case.

“Sounds like it still works,” said Lana, fishing a napkin out of her small bag underneath the table.

“Of course. I’m not an amateur, you know.” The crooked smile and raised eyebrow belied Lena’s haughty tone. She hoped to God she wasn’t blushing.

“I’m starting to think you aren’t human, either. I’ve never seen you fail at anything. You’re all kinds of amazing.”

Lana went back to snacking, clearly comfortable with the ensuing silence. The unexpected compliment was a sucker punch to Lena. She was fiercely appreciative, but wasn’t sure how to express that without sounding clingy, fake, or too emphatic.

What could she say? _Thanks?_ (No, that would be too trite and devoid of emotion.) _You’re amazing too._ (No, it’s just repeating the notion because it was said to her and therefore doesn’t mean anything.) Should she downplay the praise? (No, that would make her seem difficult, like she couldn’t take a compliment.) But she had to say _something_.

Lena was saved by Lana's hum to get her attention, sucking the crumbs off the tip of her thumb and raising her eyebrows. The wet _pop_ that hit the air as Lana’s lips and hand parted ways was impossible for Lena to ignore. It might as well have been a thunderclap. 

Lana angled the bag in Lena’s direction with her other hand. “Want some? They’re delicious.”

Lena swallowed hard amidst the tension in her throat. “No, thank you. I’m not a fan of corn chips….or spicy foods.”

Lana turned to Lena with a scandalized expression. Then she heaved a heavy sigh before shaking her head in disappointment. 

“Damn, looks like we can’t be friends anymore. Spicy isn’t for everyone but I just can’t associate with those who can’t appreciate a good corn chip.” She popped another into her mouth for emphasis, then gave the brunette a look of exaggerated sorrow. “I’m sorry, Lena, but this is goodbye.”

Lana pretended to wipe a tear away, sniffling loudly and hanging her head.

“You’re so annoying,” chuckled Lena, shaking her head. She tried, but found she couldn’t really make eye contact. She repacked her tools instead.

Lana’s face went back to normal, trademark smirk playing on her lips. She rolled and folded her half-eaten bag of chips and stuffed it in her bag. “True. But people still deal with me because I’m equally attractive.”

 _And then some,_ thought Lena. Externally, she didn’t respond. Lana continued with a sigh.

“You look a little bothered, too. Is everything okay? You know, besides the whole potential alien phenomenon we’re currently hiding from.”

Lena leaned back in her chair, watch still ticking in her hand. She thought of the news and mild hysteria going on upstairs. She thought of the new initiatives the Luthors had undertaken. She thought of the Flying Man, and she thought of Lex. So many changes in her life had happened so quickly and she was still reeling. Lena had been so focused on the fellowship that she never allowed herself to feel and process her worries. They were too close to catching up with her, but as much as she wanted to take advantage of this opportunity to unload, she knew she could outrun them a little longer.

“Thank you for asking,” said Lena sincerely. “But I’m okay, really. Maybe the nerves over the expo have finally gotten to me.”

Lana turned in her chair to face Lena directly. Her eyes were suddenly piercing and her expression was much more serious than before. Lena couldn’t look away. “You sure?”

Lena nodded. Lana didn’t push further.

After a moment of gathering courage, Lena held out her hand with her watch still in it. “Try it on.”

Lana eyed her suspiciously, but complied. “This better not give me a rash.” 

She slipped it onto her left wrist and closed the clasp. Lena could see Lana’s interest and appreciation of the accessory as she examined it with her arm outstretched. Truly, it was a beautiful thing - a rose goldtone stainless steel bracelet watch with a silver dial and clear crystals inlaid around both the band and watch face. It had been a Christmas gift from Lillian, but Lena was smart enough to deduce that all the thought behind it had been Lionel’s. Lillian had never paid attention to anything she liked except for Chess, and had proved on many occasions that she had no inkling of Lena’s personal style at all. Yet she a _dored_ this watch, so Lillian couldn’t possibly have picked it.

“How do you like it?”

Lana gave a preoccupied smile. “It’s pretty...and elegant. Definitely looks expensive.”

“It probably is. You can have it if you like.”

Lana’s eyes flew open with an incredulous look. “What? Are you crazy? I can’t take this.”

“Sure you can,” Lena smiled. “I’m giving it to you.”

Lana stood up, chuckling nervously. She suddenly had this awkward energy that Lena could sense, and the brunette cursed herself for being too forward with what was obviously too big a gesture. _Oh well_ , she thought roughly, _can’t take it back now._

“No. No, no, no,” defied Lana. “This - this is _yours_. You can’t give me this.”

“I just did. Like, literally just now.”

“Lena-”

“You’d actually be doing me a favor,” Lena goaded. “This was a gift from someone in my family I don’t particularly like, so it has no sentimental value. I only wear it because it’s pretty and it tells me the time. It looks better on you, if I’m being honest.”

Lana’s mildly distressed look softened, and Lena knew she was wearing her down.

“Come on,” she continued. “I don’t really want it, and I know you like it, so just take it.”

Lana’s jaw clenched and unclenched as her eyes floated around the room. Lena watched her shake her head repeatedly, the waves of her hair flitting about her face like curtains framing a sunlit window. Something clicked then, and Lena felt a pang of sympathy mixed with regret. This was obviously a bit much, but she could tell the gesture actually bothered Lana. Lena recognized the signs. 

She thought of her sponsored lessons in behavioral psychology, imperative by Luthor standards. Lionel told her that getting to know "how people collectively tick" would "reduce conflict and help things go your way." Lillian put it more bluntly. To her, it was about controlling people and exploiting weaknesses to make them do what you want. But Lena was thankful she could use her lessons in a way that was considerably less selfish.

Given how long she’d known Lana so far, Lena realized that she probably had to build a sense of confidence, self-sufficiency and extreme independence for herself out of necessity. Lana never talked about her parents, to Lena's recollection, but she would be surprised if Lana ever told her she had a good relationship with them. Lena was ready to rescind her offer. Luckily, she didn't have to.

Lana exhaled in a huff, side-eyeing Lena with a shake of her head. “Fine. But I'm going to give you the coolest Christmas gift ever and there's nothing you can do about it.”

A broad smile illuminated Lena's face. Her cheeks were almost sore from smiling so much, but she didn't mind. "Deal."

A loud, high-pitched ringing sound blared through the room just then, slamming her out of the moment. The lights flickered rapidly, disorienting the both of them. It was the building’s emergency alarm system. Lena raised an eyebrow. It would be naive to hope that one of the project demonstrations went awry upstairs, but she indulged herself anyway. Lana cursed and left the room with haste. Lena followed close behind.

*************************

Clark heard the screams from halfway across the Pacific Ocean. He’d gone through Delhi first without a hitch, but Kita, Tokyo was another story. He disabled the device there in under a minute, but the damage had been done. It was just as Dev predicted. Energy pulses radiated in waves. Those closest to the epicenter were strong enough to make impacts on the physical environment and Clark had watched in a panic as cars got crushed and buildings started to crumble. The sheer force of the blasts had killed the people milling outside. Bodies were torn, smashed, and mangled in ways that Clark had never seen even in his worst nightmares, and it was all he could do to ignore them and focus on those who could still be saved. The flying debris and half-destroyed buildings still posed a threat.

Surprise, wariness, and gratitude momentarily eclipsed the tension when Dev made an appearance to assist him. Clark didn’t ask what kind of “chaos” he’d decided to cause, but instead thanked him for the help. Communication was minimal despite the mayhem and confusion; they found that they worked together rather well without it. Since Clark had the superior powers, he elected to do damage control while Dev got civilians out of harm’s way. He was a little more forceful than Clark would’ve liked, but the situation was dire and too many people were yelling and running, with no knowledge of where the dangers were coming from. Dev didn’t speak any Earth languages either, so he couldn’t exactly ask them to work with them. Many times he had to fly the most panic-stricken out of harm’s way himself.

Flying over Asukayama Park, Clark saw a third of the trees uprooted. Some people were injured by falling branches, some were helping the injured, and some were just running. Looking beyond, though, Clark saw that everything else stretching northwest was untouched. This seemed to be the edge of the device’s radius, and he was thankful that most of the immediate damage had been relegated to about three square blocks.

During a small reprieve, Dev stood by Clark and looked to the sky. An annoyed grimace appeared on his face.

 _ <What is it?> _ asked Clark. Dev sighed.

_ <Jax is coming.> _

After a moment, Clark found the Kryptonian high in the sky on course to where they were. Dev continued.

 _ <You still have work to do. Go and finish it. I’ll deal with him.> _ His unchanging tone of boredom seemed incongruous to Clark in terms of the situation, but he guessed that was just his personality. Almost an afterthought, Dev mumbled, _ <I would very much like to kill him.> _

Dev took off into the air before Clark could respond. He'd had something to say about that, but they'd already wasted precious time. Saving civilians and minimizing collateral damage took much longer than causing it, and looking around now, Clark's mounting anger made itself known because of it.

With all the genetic manipulators destroyed, Clark tore across the sky again like a javelin He could feel himself losing composure. Death was stuck across his mind in a loop, igniting a conflagration of rage in his heart. Zod probably accounted for this. The more destruction he caused, the more people were put in danger. And Clark would always go to help them, slowing him down and allowing the former Phantom Zone prisoners more time to execute their plans to their liking. Doing the right thing made Clark predictable, and worse, it made him play into Zod’s hands. But what else could he do?

After Clark learned of his alien heritage, loneliness was even more evident than he’d wanted to admit. He wanted so badly to find someone - anyone - like him, and despite his knowledge of the prisoners he’d secretly hoped he could connect with them. But that notion had been trashed almost immediately and now Clark was disgusted with how naive he was. Was this truly Krypton’s legacy? Was this how Krypton made its place in the universe? His limited knowledge already told him that it had been far from ideal, and if all this chaos was what the remnants of such a place had to offer, then he wanted nothing to do with it. 

Surveying the sky once again now that he was over halfway back to Metropolis, Clark saw that Zod’s warship hadn’t moved much in its time above the bay. But it _was_ moving, and getting closer to New Troy with each passing second. He had to get Zod and the ship away as quickly as possible, but the odds were definitely not in his favor. It was still three against one even if he didn’t have to worry about civilians. 

The air shifted around him, and this time he took note. A quick glance to the rear showed Jax back on his tail with Dev nowhere in sight. The blank look on his face sent shivers down Clark’s spine. That was what Zod had planned for so many, all in preparation for someone who had a good chance of being worse. After seeing the destructive effects of their invasion firsthand, Clark was past negotiating.

Clark made a direct line for Zod’s ship, heart hammering in his chest with the anticipation of meeting it. He barely had a plan. Zod and Faora were just as powerful, and he had no idea where Dev was at the moment. Humans didn’t have a way of stopping them or holding them. The only foreseeable option was to send them back to the Phantom Zone.

After learning what he had of Krypton’s history, Clark was not a fan of the concept of the Phantom Zone and its uses. It seemed oddly cruel for a civilization so advanced. He hadn’t wanted to make the same decision, but there didn’t seem to be much choice.

“Kelex!” he called against the wind.

“ _Yes, Kal._ ”

Clark breathed a sigh of relief and swerved northward. “You’ve been a great help already but I need one more favor.”

“ _Of course._ ”

“Is there anything in the Fortress I can use to access the Phantom Zone?”

“ _The phantom drive in your ship is available and operational. Jor and Zor were responsible for revolutionizing intra-planetary travel and designed the most current phantom drives. In actuality, they are just projectors attached to navigation systems._ ”

Clark hadn’t needed all that information, but he was grateful. “So...all I have to do is disconnect it.”

“ _Precisely. Additionally, the Fortress’s dimensional cloaking capability does have access to the Phantom Zone as an option, though it is not recommended._ ”

“Swell. Thanks, Kelex.” Clark came up on Metropolis then, and looked back to see Jax still in pursuit. Judging by their last encounter, Clark figured his fighting ability worked on instinct. _Hit him hard and fast then,_ Clark thought. He had no way of knowing, but he prayed that whatever Zod had done to Jax made him impervious to pain.

It was likely that he’d have to defend himself against all three of them at the same time. Faora wouldn’t be incapacitated indefinitely. He grit his teeth as the front of the ship came into full and easy view. That sacrifice he’d have to make. Clark threw his arms in front of him and put on one last burst of speed as he came upon the front shielding. 

Clark tore right through the front of Zod’s ship to land on the far side of the bridge. He skidded to a halt and whirled back around to find Jax coming in after him, reaching out. Catching his arm at the bicep, he wrenched him out of the air and brought Jax straight down to the floor. Clark twisted, dropped his knee onto Jax’s back and pulled. It fell like a lever at an odd angle, and he slammed his other fist into Jax’s upper arm, eliciting a sharp crack that startled even himself. Part of his body went limp, but there was no indication that the brainwashed Kryptonian had even felt it. Jax rose straight up into the air with him on his back, slamming Clark into the ceiling with a boom.

< _The hull has been breached. Emergency lockdown engaged,_ > came Kelor's voice.

Clark shoved the other Kryptonian off and blasted his heat vision concussively, knocking him over the command center and onto the bottom entrance of the area. Jax rose again immediately, right arm hanging loosely at his side. He lunged again and caught him with a punch to the chest before Clark could dodge. His body barely reacted to hitting the closest wall, but the way his chest heaved when he coughed for air told him enough. He didn’t need to get hit like that again.

Before Clark could get his bearings, something slammed into his head and he immediately hit the floor. His eyes searched, slowly focusing to see another man now standing next to Jax. He stayed where he was, eyes turned to his commander.

< _Thank you, Jax. You have served your purpose well_ ,> said Zod. A sudden, awful snapping sound filled the air just then, and Jax slumped to the floor to land flailed at an awkward angle. His eyes stared blankly in Clark’s direction, no different than from a moment ago.

Clark was hit with a sense of empty shock, followed by the feeling of being dragged upward by his neck.

< _I am disappointed, Kal-El. > _

His own answer came out as barely a croak. < _Zod. Stop this_.>

< _Just like your father, you are too naive to see what should be done. He preferred the hard way as well._ > Zod tossed him across the bridge. < _You are but one man with no hope of stopping us. Even if you could, what will you do when my liberator arrives? You need us_.>

Zod moved and in an instant he was at Clark’s side, shoving his foot into his ribcage. Clark let out a groan that turned into a small wheeze. The general continued. < _Do you think yourself so mighty that you could stop him on your own? Quite the delusion._ >

Zod launched Clark into the air with his foot and then slammed his fist into his stomach. Clark doubled over in midair and was greeted with a backhand from Zod. The general leaned over him and met his eyes. The younger Kryptonian was surprised to see that behind the hard look Zod offered him, there was pity.

< _It is a great tragedy that you did not get to witness Krypton’s splendor. That you did not get to live the life you should have. I am offering you a home, Kal-El. I am offering you a civilization, a people. We can even change the terrain to match Krypton. Don't you long to truly be with your own people? To belong? You can have all of this, yet you seem to want to choose between watching Earth die now, or watching it die later. > _

Clark looked back at Zod with disdain. He was cloaked in shadow, and for a moment Clark could not tell where the edges of his black suit ended or where the darkness began. During their earlier meeting, Zod’s face and demeanor had been more meandering, more aloof. Now his expression was hard with the stoicism that comes with conviction. Clark’s eyes flitted over to Jax, lifeless and unmoving.

< _You talk about civilization, but then you strip your people of their free will and discard them. What makes you any different from the Council? > _The flicker in Zod’s eyes at his accusation gave Clark a dark sense of satisfaction. 

< _You continue to surprise me, Kal-El. A valued asset would you be, were you not so stubborn,_ > answered Zod with a piercing look. Clark made to stand, but another blow from Zod sent him right back to the ground. < _I don’t want genocide. I don’t want extermination. I want to restore Krypton and raise it to the glory it deserved. I’d prefer not to rebuild it on the ashes of this world, but I will if I must. Free will is essential to true life, yes, but what good is it if they use it to doom themselves? What life will they have then? > _

A realization came to Clark.

_ <That’s what you did, isn’t it? That’s why they sent you to the Phantom Zone. Because you wanted to force people to save themselves if they didn’t do it on their own.> _

Zod’s expression faded into one of preoccupation. He clenched his jaw. < _I was prepared to do anything to ensure that Krypton would be saved, but because of the Council’s stubbornness, it exists no more. Do not make the same mistake._ >

Clark pressed on. < _I can’t let you turn the whole world into your mindless army. >_

_ <Only those that don’t decide to join me in changing their planet and defending it need worry, as well as those who live out their usefulness. All else will live as they do now, and I will lead them through the worst when it comes calling.> _

Clark’s labored breathing steadied, but the taste of blood kept his adrenaline high. _ <All you want is power. Otherwise you wouldn’t have sent the drones first.> _

_ <There are more people on this planet now than there got to be on Krypton. I can afford to make examples of them in the effort to make you submit. Intimidation tactics for incentive, if you will.> _ Zod surged forward and shoved his boot into Clark’s chest to bring his heel down. He leaned over him, grinding Clark down into the floor with his foot. _ <Much like this. Kelor, fire on everything below.> _

A rumble shook the ship. By now, they’d already be over New Troy, and an explosion of noise confirmed Clark’s fears. He could hear the tearing of metal and the crumble of brick and concrete as the ship hit everything within range. A sudden strength flared within him amidst the pain. His eyes glowed red.

A savage burst of heat vision caught the general full in the face and blasted him backward across the open area. The scent of burning flesh wafted back toward Clark as Zod hit the floor in a heap, growling.

Clark was ready to continue the onslaught but doubled over before he could take another step. Not even fully standing yet, all he could register was an acute, nauseating pain he’d felt only once before. 

To his right stood Dev-Em, holding one of the glowing minerals from the warehouse in an outstretched hand. Clark hadn't even heard him arrive, and paid the price for it. Zod rose to his feet, but didn't retaliate or move closer. Dev had the audacity to look apologetic.

 _ <Sorry,> _ he said to Clark, _ <but did you really think yours was the winning side?> _

"You bastard," spat Clark through gritted teeth, using what little strength he had to glare at Dev.

_ <I don't know what that means but your tone didn't sound very friendly. I suppose I can't blame you, though.> _

_ <Enough,> _ Zod commanded. _ <You have given me no choice. I would have preferred not to do this to another Kryptonian as there are so little of us left, but you don’t have to come willingly. Dev, take him.> _

Clark’s arms shook with the weight of holding himself up as he knelt by the Daxamite. The heaviness of his body threatened to overtake him, but with all the energy he could muster he made one last play. A thin, powerful blast of heat vision pierced the rock in Dev’s hand, shattering it into pieces.

A small part chipped off and ricocheted back into Clark’s face, slicing across his cheek. The puff of mineral dust was too close to avoid, and his throat and lungs seized up as he struggled to breathe. Dev’s hand was steaming and he cursed in annoyance, holding it in his other hand gingerly. Zod reacted with a sharp grunt of pain and stumbled backward before regaining his balance. A long shard of the glowing rock stuck out of his left shoulder.

Coughing and sputtering, Clark somehow managed to get to his feet. Pieces of the mineral lay strewn across the floor, their threat significantly diminished. But he still felt drained and afflicted. Even with Zod injured, he still had a powerful Daxamite to deal with. Dev’s durability held up against the radioactive shards, but Clark could see the general struggling to remove the shard and ultimately failing, which gave him resolve.

Clark pushed off his feet with as much speed as he could. He slammed into the Daxamite with the right side of his body in an instant, sending him careening through the debris on the bridge. But it wasn’t enough.

Dev stopped himself in midair, looking back at Clark with a resigned expression. _ <I guess I deserved that.> _

In a blur, the Daxamite was at Zod’s side, unceremoniously tearing the shard out of his shoulder. Before Clark could react, Dev moved again, thrusting the jagged piece of rock into his stomach twice. At first, it felt like he’d been punched. Then the pain flared and Clark could feel the blood flowing out of him. His already drained and fatigued body was failing him, and it was all he could do to keep himself standing. 

But it was all for naught. Dev delivered one more blow to his face, and Clark fell to his knees. The ship seemed to wobble before his eyes. Slumping sideways, his vision went black.


	19. Superman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get much worse, until they don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everybody!! Here's the penultimate chapter, hope you all enjoy :)

The alarms still blared as Lana and Lena jogged from the stairs across the open hall and into the lobby. Lana had expected to run into some sort of tumultuous cacophony, but the main floor was almost empty save for the stragglers still evacuating from the front. The expo hall was toward the back of the building. Hopefully most of the attendees had exited that way. 

Lana’s phone buzzed in her back pocket and she immediately retrieved it. She’d hoped it was Clark finally getting back to her, but her face fell upon the realization that it wasn’t. A ten-digit number flashed on the screen, and despite it not being saved she recognized the caller. Fear, anger, and dread collided in her chest with total disregard for everything she was already feeling. One tap of the volume button stopped the buzzing. She pocketed it and trotted toward the front set of doors with Lena in tow before hearing the door to the staircase on the other side of the lobby slam. 

Quick, deliberate footsteps came to meet them. The Luthors had finally made their way down. Lillian’s pace created a lively staccato, heels making themselves known as she poured even quicker hushed tones into the phone she was holding against her ear. She, Lex, and Lionel angled their paths to meet with the two younger girls on their way to the exits.

“Is everyone out already?” called Lex.

“Looks like it,” answered Lena. “What’s going on?”

Lionel’s face was the quintessence of controlled emotion. His tone was even. “That floating vessel above the bay turned hostile. Lower New Troy is suffering the attack, but it’s only a matter of time until it moves on from there.”

“That’s not far from here,” said Lana. Lionel gave her a grim look.

“You’re right. And what's more, there have been similar attacks all over the world. I suggest you come with us, Miss Lang.”

Once they were outside, the scene simultaneously became clearer and less so. Car horns blared amidst bumper-to-bumper traffic, the sidewalk was riddled with running passersby, and all of that was almost drowned out by the not-so-distant booms coming from the south. Lana was baffled by the Luthors' ability to keep calm. As it was, she was rapidly losing composure and had no idea how long she'd be able to keep it together. 

She thought of Clark. Her earlier worries seemed even more trivial now. Lena had been right the whole time, and she’d worried for nothing. Clark had surely left for _this_ , and it had nothing to do with her. But now Lana had an awful feeling. This was more serious than anything they’d ever seen, and she hoped to everything good that they could all get out of this in one piece.

“Do we know if the other fellows are safe?” asked Lionel, starting northward up the block. The rest followed. “Have either of you been in contact with them?”

Lena answered. “I’ve sent a group message but nobody responded yet.”

Lana weaved between the pedestrians littering the sidewalk, keeping pace but bringing up the rear. Only after a minute of walking did she realize they were headed to their apartment building. She didn’t need to wait long for an explanation.

“He’s already on the helipad,” said Lillian to her husband. “We should pick up the pace.”

So this was the Luthors’ personal evacuation plan. Lana counted herself lucky to have come across them in the middle of all this. Upon arriving she saw that there were still people milling in the lobby, and didn’t know whether to be surprised or not. There was no alarm sounding like there had been at LuthorCorp Tower, but at least some seemed to have evacuated. Lana had half a mind to pull the fire alarm, but chickened out. The party of five marched straight to the elevators.

The ride to the top floor was tense. No one said a word, but Lana saw a different expression on all the others’ faces. Lena looked preoccupied, worried with something on her mind; Lionel wore a hard, determined look; Lillian looked almost angry; Lex’s face was blank. Lana wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but she was tightly strung and ready to snap.

Her phone began buzzing again, and with a sharp spike of anger she whipped it out and declined the call. Glancing around her, Lana caught Lena’s eyes. The younger woman looked away, suddenly interested in the floor buttons. The elevator reached its destination.

The top floor was empty. At a brisk pace they all followed Lionel down the long hallway adjacent to the elevators. Lana’s phone buzzed a third time.

She gritted her teeth and relented. Dropping back a few steps but still keeping pace with the group, she answered.

“What do you want?” she hissed into the receiver.

 _“Lana?”_ came a woman’s voice on the other side.

“What is it, Mom?”

_“Are...are you okay?”_

Lana’s fingers held her phone in a death grip. She kept her tone low and her breathing even. “Fine.”

_“I’ve been watching the news. I heard what’s happening in Metropolis and wanted -”_

“I haven’t heard from you since graduation, and it was even longer before that. I guess since the world’s ending you finally remembered you have a daughter, huh?”

A heavy sigh came through the phone. _“You so obviously wanted space. I thought it best to indulge you.”_

“Oh, how gracious of you,” Lana spat. “This is supposed to be _my_ fault, is it?”

_“Lana, please, it’s not anyone’s fault -”_

_“_ It most definitely is, and that’s the part you never seem to get!"

Silence. And then, _“Are we really doing this now?”_

“ _You_ called _me_ in the middle of a disaster, I’m not so far from the action, have been _this_ close to losing my mind and we have no idea if we’ll actually make it out of this unscathed. So yeah, I guess we’re fucking doing this now.”

Lana continued to follow behind the Luthors, turning right along the corridor. It was almost labyrinthine. She didn’t think the design was emergency-friendly, but then again neither was taking the elevator.

_“What’s happening over there?”_

Lana huffed. “Big UFO over Gotham Bay appeared out of nowhere, then started attacking and blowing the bottom part of New Troy to bits. That about sums it up.”

 _“UFO as in_ aliens _? That’s ridiculous."_

“Nobody knows what the fuck it is. The ‘U’ in UFO stands for ‘unidentified.’ But unless you’ve been under a rock the past few months, you’ve heard of that guy who can literally fly. So maybe amend your standards a little.”

 _“Are you evacuating?”_ There was a persistent echo on the other end of the call. Lana pressed on.

“No, I fully intend to just stand and watch the whole thing go down in the middle of the street.”

There was shuffling in the background. _“There’s no need for the attitude, Lana. I just wanted to know you were okay.”_

“Well I could’ve done without this phone call today so I guess we’re both disappointed. My well-being was never that important before so why now?” No answer. More shuffling and unintelligible noise. Lana refused to continue ignoring it. “Am I on speaker? Who else is there?”

There was silence again. Lana and the others finally got to the stairwell on the other end of the floor. Halfway up the stairs, she was ready to hang up but then heard an answer.

_“Your father’s here too.”_

Lana froze mid-step, heart jolting in her ribcage. Every muscle in her body tensed all at once, and her jaw clenched tight enough to grind her teeth together. She was shaking. Lena and the Luthors continued up the stairs, seemingly unaware.

“Fuck this. And fuck you for calling me.”

_“Wait, please don’t hang up y-”_

“How can you stand the sight of him after everything he’s done! His presence alone makes me want to vomit and crawl in a hole and the only reason I didn’t make a whole fucking scene last time was because Clark and Martha were there and they don’t know a damn thing.” Lana was almost hyperventilating now, speaking twice as fast as normal.

_“He’s still your father. He just wants-”_

“I don’t give a shit what he wants!” Lana’s voice was high and thin with the strain of barely maintained control. “He put you in the hospital for a _week_ , but did _he_ help pay those bills? No, _I_ did. The last time I was alone with him he locked me in the goddamn storm cellar! I’d take the situation I’m in right now over anything that has to do with him. He doesn’t deserve to be called family. And I hope he fucking heard that.”

 _“We just wanted to know you were safe, Lala,”_ said a much deeper voice.

The unmistakable timbre of his voice forced a wave of nausea through Lana’s already churning stomach. _Lala._ It was a nickname from when she was very young. As a toddler, she hadn’t been able to pronounce her name properly, and it came out like “Lala.” It stuck, and hearing him use it now was the most revolting thing she’d ever heard.

Lana immediately hung up the phone and blocked the number thereafter. Her hands shook like the rest of her. Blood pounded in her ears. Her heart was in her throat. A rapidly-forming ache throbbed in her skull. Shoulders rose and fell with breaths she couldn’t slow. The whir of helicopter blades echoed through the stairway. She was half a flight of stairs away from the door to the roof, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Everything was so loud. Why was everything so fucking _loud_?

“Where’s Lana?” came a muffled voice she could barely register. The door opened and Lena stepped through. An open, unguarded look of concern washed over the brunette’s features as she came back down the stairs to meet Lana. 

“Lana?” she asked softly. “What’s wrong?”

Lana could still feel herself shaking, the incontrovertible evidence of the rage and resentment of having kept it together for too long. Somewhere in the depths of her heart Lana was thankful for her friend’s concern. But it wasn’t Lena she wanted right then. 

It was Clark. 

His warmth, his loyalty, his steadfastness...that’s what she needed. But he was needed elsewhere. Lena spoke again.

“Lana, I’m sorry, but we have to go.”

Lana squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. She drew her breath steadily, and forced it out in a long, drawn out hiss. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Lana followed Lena onto the roof.

**************************

Clark's eyes opened slowly, lids heavy and vision far from clear. All he knew in his haze was a powerful, blunt ache that made his head pound and muscles pulse in a painful throb. He felt like he was upright, but he wasn't standing. Only then did he become aware that he was restrained.

His arms were bent at odd angles and he couldn't move them. All he could see were blurry masses of color that told he wasn't alone. Panic would have set in if pain and exhaustion hadn't already taken over his entire being. Clark didn't know where he was or what was about to happen, but it didn't matter. He no longer had the strength to do anything regardless.

 _ <You're taking too long,> _ said Faora tightly.

Clark heard Dev's response from his right. _ <I can follow your direction, but I’m not an expert. Would _ you _like to set this up while simultaneously keeping our subject weak with this mineral? If you think you'll be able to, by all means have at it. > _

_ <A few moments make no difference, dear Faora,> _ came Zod’s voice with a bit of mirth. _ <Better he do it right than quickly.> _

Faora grumbled. _ <We shouldn’t waste time. I...have a bad feeling.> _

Clark’s eyes finally adjusted, and he could see the danger before him. Two Kryptonians and a Daxamite in an enclosed yet spacious area, and he was bound to some metal apparatus. His stomach still throbbed from the earlier stab wound. Weak struggling was all he could muster. Dev looked at him with what was almost pity.

 _ <No point trying to resist now,> _ he said, waving the sharp piece of glowing rock, still with Clark’s blood on it. _ <It’s over, my friend.> _

Zod and Faora both stood on the far side of the room, the general close to the exit and his lieutenant at his side. Faora’s unhidden anticipation made Clark’s blood run cold. He had to escape somehow. Nothing and no one else stood a ghost of a chance against them. And worse, they meant to use him to subjugate his own home as another empty puppet no different from what they had done to Jax. If he failed here, everything as he knew it would die.

But something so small and simple as a jagged piece of rock kept him in place.

 _ <You don’t have to help me,> _ Clark mumbled to Dev, _< but why help them? You don’t think you’re worth anything to them, do you?> _

Dev chuckled, but it was Faora who scoffed and answered. _ <Desperate musings from someone about to be wiped from existence. Goodbye, son of Jor-El.> _

Dev held the glowing shard in his hand closer to Clark, who tried to shrink away despite having nowhere to go. He felt lightheaded, but also like his insides were boiling at the same time. The Daxamite touched the restraints once more and then took a step back. _ <It’s done.> _

Dev moved sideways as Faora strode up to Clark. Her eyes held a predatory gleam. Clark still felt weak having been in close range of it for a while, but he struggled against his restraints all the same. If she felt comfortable enough to come closer, then Dev and his radioactive weapon were far enough that she wouldn’t be hurt. Clark’s arms were bent partially behind him to further restrict movement, but...the bonds felt looser somehow. Faora fiddled behind him with whatever controlled the apparatus, and Clark turned once again to Dev.

 _ <If they could do what they did to Jax, don’t you think they’ll do it to you too?> _Clark’s voice was strained and desperate, laid completely bare. He could feel his heart pounding, his stomach tightening amidst the adrenaline rush, and the creak of the restraints as he gathered as much strength as he could. Zod had not moved. Faora remained silent. The machine began to hum. Dev held Clark’s gaze for another moment, and finally, after what seemed like forever, he smiled.

_ <I believe you’re right.> _

Dev moved faster than Clark’s fatigued eyes could follow, but the aftermath offered full clarity. A resounding thud filled the room and Zod was thrown backward into the far corner, the sharp piece of rock Dev once had now embedded in his chest. The general slumped to the ground with a groan and a wheeze. Dev sped out of the room in a blur.

Clark expected an immediate response from Faora, but it never happened. A harsh gurgling sound came from beside him, and he saw the weak spray of blood before she eventually came into view. Faora stumbled forward and fell to her knees, hands clutching at her neck. They were almost completely covered in blood.

Dev must have slashed her throat open before stabbing the general. Raw, desperate gasps tore themselves from her body and scraped against the air. Her skin was even more pallid now than it had been. Her grip lessened, her strength waned, and the blood flowed more and more freely onto the floor. 

Complete and utter shock somehow energized Clark. He pulled again and finally tore from the restraints to stumble and sway into precarious footing. Still unbalanced, he left Zod and Faora and sped after Dev.

Confusion and desperation won out over common sense. Clark followed the sound of the Daxamite’s movements until he found him one level below, hunched on the far side of a cramped room filled with important-looking machinery.

 _ <Oh, good. You’re alive,> _called Dev with a chuckle, before turning his attention back to what looked like a control console.

 _ <What is wrong with you?> _ said Clark. His voice dripped with awe and disgust. _ <Whose side are you on?> _

_ <Only ever my own. I did say I was manipulating you, didn’t I? You seem like a decent fellow, so playing you was easy. But playing them required much more convincing. You’re welcome.> _

Clark listened for danger. So far, there was no cause for alarm. That worried him. It had looked to be the end of Zod and Faora, but by now Clark knew better than to take anything for granted. _ <What are you doing?> _

_ <Solving our little Kryptonian problem. I’d advise you to get off this thing soon unless you’d like to be introduced to the Phantom Zone.> _

Clark watched tensely as the Daxamite fiddle with the console. Thankfully his stomach was fully healed now and he could breathe easily. _ <So now you’re helping again. Why should I believe anything you say now?> _

_ <I don’t care what you believe, but you want to save this planet, yes?> _ Clark clenched his jaw and left the question unanswered. _ <This was always the plan. But you Kryptonians are more powerful than I am and I’ve been outnumbered since we were freed. This star system gives me power, but I could not get here without them and still couldn’t count on escaping three of you. Imagine my elation when I found something that can hurt you but not me.> _

_ <So why not just disappear? Why help me before?> _

_ <Most would be more thankful and less chatty in this situation.> _ Dev finally stopped and turned to face him. Clark gave an expectant look. _ <Zod asked me to manipulate you if the opportunity presented itself, and I chose to make that work for me. But further, I don’t like being a witness to subjugation. I took care of it on Daxam as well.> _

Clark heard movement from upstairs. Dev seemed to take notice as well. _ <We’re out of time.> _

Dev thrust his hand onto the console. _ <So are they.> _

All around them the ship began to emit a low hum, and then the lights blew out. The controls began to glow, a dim white casting a glare over the room and shrouding Dev in a pale outline. 

_ <The rest is up to you, Kryptonian.> _

Dev sped past Clark through the entrance and was gone. Clark, not wanting to wait for company, shot straight up through the ceiling and didn’t stop until he met the sky. Deep breaths were a small remedy as he basked in the fresh air and warm sunlight that greeted him. Looking back, he saw a small vessel rocketing farther and farther away from the warship. No doubt it held the duplicitous Daxamite as he made his escape. But Clark had no time to be wary of any future dealings with him. The ship began to shimmer and fade like a ghost.

Clark was somewhere above the lower end of Metropolis, but couldn’t bring himself to look down just yet. So much damage had been caused in so little time. If he tried to take stock now, it would be a terrible distraction.

Zod’s ship flickered and flashed, and then finally vanished. Clark held his breath, listening and waiting. It didn’t return, and a relieved exhale forced its way from his lungs. 

But the relief was short-lived. 

The ship was gone and yet Zod was still in this dimension, falling rapidly through the air and unfortunately back in the sunlight. His current condition was grim, but would soon be reversed. Faora was nowhere to be seen.

Clark descended to the ground below him, but not before Zod himself crashed onto the concrete. A fog of dust permeated the whole area, a blanket covering tons of debris. Clark blew it away. There weren’t many people in his field of view, and those he did see were fleeing from the area as fast as they could. Some were injured and others were mostly fine, but Clark resolved not to look too hard. He knew that if he x-rayed the buildings all he’d find were the dead, and he could not bring himself to use his other senses to focus on civilians. Another distraction, and he’d be leaving Zod with the opportunity to cause even more irreparable damage. He had to end this.

Clark flew across the expanse of rubble and torn concrete, what used to be the main street leading down to the very end of New Troy. The southwestern edge of Gotham Bay was close by; Metropolis was lucky that the warship’s attack hadn’t reached too far inland. Clark stopped several meters from where Zod landed. The general took a deep, shaky breath and clamored to his feet. Hard, dark eyes found Clark and bored into him. It gave Clark tunnel vision. Nothing else mattered.

_The entropy of fate favors both none and all._ The old adage floated to the front of Zod’s mind in his haze of resentment and rage. It was a well-known saying. Jor-El used to use it often, and for Zod it was irrevocably tied to the man he’d once called friend. It was meant to give perspective, to remind oneself that the universe is impartial to the goings-on of any life form. That life is dictated by choices, both individually and collectively, not some higher, all-encompassing force. 

Zod had always found it contradictory. How could a culture where the thought of Rao, a divine and omnipotent being, had permeated all aspects of life to the point of being ingrained in the very soul of its people believe it had no say in their lives. In truth, the presence of Rao had not demanded an organized religion the way other civilizations had established (at least not planet-wide, despite there being small overzealous factions here and there). There were no prayer rites, no holy days of obligation or celebration, just a passive belief of Rao’s existence as truth. 

None of that ever helped Zod get by. None of it gave any meaning to life or offered any solace amidst confusion and failure. How often had Zod and people like him strived to ameliorate the wrongs enforced by the structure of Kryptonian society? How often had he tried to make the Council see reason? How often had he tried to save his people? Yet at every turn, Zod had been spurned and beaten - even betrayed - one way or another.

He was given a chance at freedom - at redemption! The details were less than ideal to begin with but there it was, the opportunity to build a Krypton that would have surpassed the old in every way imaginable. It had practically fallen into his hands. Of course, the short term was dealing with his liberator, but beyond that stretched a vision of development and advancement spearheaded by his direction. Yet it all came undone because of a piece of rock and an abandoned son who knew nothing of Kryptonian culture, a direct product of the Council's misdeeds.

Jor had been wrong. There was a higher power involved, and it must be toying with him.

 _ <Kal-El_, _> _ gritted Zod, _ <Krypton's last son. Privileged, weak, disgraceful. You are a stain upon your heritage.> _

Kal continued to stride forward. _ <Weren't you imprisoned for leading a failed revolution?> _ he called. _ <You obviously weren't satisfied. How can you hold so much pride for a civilization you wanted to change so desperately?> _

_ <It was because of that pride that I wanted to change it!> _ screamed Zod. _ <So it could endure! Krypton deserved to flourish and have its splendor renowned across galaxies, and yet your father and the Council, who so proclaimed to love it so much, betrayed me and our people and let it burn out of existence!> _

Kal's face took on an image of pity, and it enraged Zod even further. The physical pain had subsided, but everything else he felt fueled the conflagration inside him.

 _ <What does my father have to do with this?> _said Kal. He looked wary, his tone tentative.

Zod wheezed and hissed, standing up to full height. _ <We spent years trying to convince the Council to see reason, but they refused to acknowledge fact. Yet when I asked for his help in building resistance against the Council, he turned me away. When I longed for his valued counsel, again he denied me. And just before my imprisonment, I implored him to devise with me a plan to evacuate all from our doomed home. He told me it was no longer worth trying. He’d given up, turned his back on his people, but evidently cared just enough to make sure you survived. How lucky you are to have been the object of Jor’s affection, when he had since ceased caring for everyone else.> _

Kal took a few steps forward. _ <I never knew my father. But after your time here I can say with all certainty that he made the right choices.> _

Neither made a move on the other yet, but it was no small feat for Zod to keep his fury contained.

 _ <Everything that I’ve done, no matter how violent or how cruel, was for the good of our home,> _ pressed Zod. _ <We could have built it anew in this unrefined squalor and now you, as the Council once was, are responsible for its destruction. Krypton will not live again, because of you. I have no home, because of you. My life, my culture, and my reason for being are all lost, _ BECAUSE OF YOU _! > _

Zod launched himself at Kal hard enough to crack the concrete beneath him, and slammed a fist into his chest to send him careening through the ground floor of an already dilapidated building. He didn’t stop, flying low to the ground in hot pursuit until he came upon him again amidst rebar and rubble. Hands made for war pummeled the decided do-gooder. Splashes of blood spurred them on. Glass and metal fell all around them, but Zod paid no mind to anything except the retraction of his fists and their surges downward. The force of every blow tunneled them further into the ground. Kal’s attempts to fight back were pitiful. Did he really think he could save this world when he couldn’t save himself?

Bloodied fingers gripped Kal around the neck and dragged him upward as Zod took flight. Burrowing up through the falling debris and crumbling foundation of the building, he made his way back out into the open air. Then, with incredible speed, Zod rocketed toward the ground and planted Kal into the middle of the street.

Zod stood over him, maliciousness radiating in waves. He could barely think of Kal as Kryptonian, and resolved not to. He refused to consider someone so pathetic as kin. Kal groaned and squirmed, attempting to get up. A swift kick to the jaw sent him back to the ground a few meters away.

 _ <You were born on Krypton, but you are of Earth. You don’t know what it means to lose that which makes you who you are.> _ Zod’s voice carried the cold, commanding tone his subordinates had once been used to. _ <But you will learn.> _

Heat vision surged to full power and laid waste to everything he could see. The only things Zod knew were the heat in his eyes and the snarl on his face. The hole carved out of his soul consumed him, the maelstrom that led to the abyss. He was sunlight funneled through a magnifying glass aimed at dry matter, and the conflagration that would surely ensue was close at hand. First, he would tear these cities apart. And then, amidst the destruction, he would descend upon these humans - those precious and fragile beings Kal so proclaimed to be his people. He would take them from him, one by one, and force him to bear witness.

*************************

Lana had never been in a helicopter before. It was nothing at all like riding in a plane, and if she hadn't still been mentally preoccupied, she would have been desperate to land. She didn’t feel the need to ask where they were going either. Instead, she furiously scrolled on her phone to see if there were any developments in news coverage on the mayhem going on downtown. If it served to distract her from everything else, all the better. Beside her, Lena was doing the same.

There wasn’t much going on in the way of conversation between the passengers, but Lana wouldn’t have initiated anyway. Lionel was trying to get in touch with Mercy to no avail, and Lana had never warmed up to Lillian’s presence. She wouldn’t have known what to say regardless. The only thing Lana could focus on was wondering what Clark was doing. She’d seen photos and shaky, blurry videos of the commotion from people all around the world. Clark had been in Tokyo not too long ago and as close as Gotham even more recently. He’d even been mentioned in emergency broadcasts, some of which were taken from other helicopters close to the area.

“The UFO is gone,” said Lena suddenly, a look of both concentration and alarm on her face. She looked at everyone, getting their attentions. “The other fellows responded and they're okay, but they're saying it's gone. I checked the live news updates and it's true. It just disappeared.”

Lex craned his neck to peer out the window, though there was no way they’d be able to see much from their position in the sky. Lillian did the same. Lionel only looked at Lena.

“What else is going on down there?” he asked. Lena consulted her phone once more and Lana, sitting next to her, looked as well.

“Something or someone is still causing damage and destruction in lower New Troy and giving… _Superman_ …a lot of trouble.”

“ _Superman?_ ” the rest of the passengers chorused incredulously.

“Uh, yeah,” answered Lena in a low, timid voice. “That‘s what they’re calling him now. On social media. Even the Daily Planet is using the name.”

It was silent for a moment, then came Lionel’s input. “Well it is catchy and easy to remember.”

“Beats ‘The Flying Man,’” said Lex. “And now the ‘S’ on his chest will make sense.”

Lana hadn't come across it in her perusal of news, but didn't doubt Lena. Searching for the new moniker, she immediately found a hashtag that, despite not yet trending, was inundated with hundreds of posts. Lana wasn’t so sure about the name, and was even less sure of how Clark would react when he found out, but that wasn’t the important part. Her fear had been realized: the world had begun to acknowledge and adopt him as a figure to look to. This crux of the crisis was here in Metropolis, but it had reached all around the world. All of Earth would truly know him now, and they couldn’t take it back. They just had to get through this ordeal and then she and Clark would be free to deal with-

“ _NO!_ ” 

Lena’s warning shout echoed against every corner of the cabin, but nothing could have prepared any of them for what happened next. A bright red light illuminated Lana’s field of vision and something collided with the back end of the cabin, tearing right through the tail. What remained of the helicopter snapped left and pitched forward, sending them spinning and falling toward the ground. Lana’s stomach lurched as the rest of her body was shoved against the side windows. Plummeting in free fall finally dislodged her mind and threw it into full panic. This was how she was going to die - nose-diving in a broken helicopter she should have never been in. Her last conversation with Clark was going to be a callous misunderstanding. She'd never told Martha how much she loved her, and valued her as a mother figure. All she could do was recognize herself as an assemblage of amassed fears, regrets, and resentments that never measured up to the person she’d always wanted to be, the person the two people who loved her knew she could be. She shut her eyes against reality. It didn't matter now. Everything was about to be over.

But then it wasn’t.

The cabin slowed its descent, and was suddenly right side up. They all continued down and somehow also forward, gliding among trees until they were finally set down in Centennial Park. Lana's heart beat rhythmically in her throat, and judging by the shocked, crazed looks on everyone's faces, they felt similarly.

"So, uh," the pilot began, "everyone good back there?"

No one answered. Shaky gasps and deep, heavy breaths were the only response. 

The right side door opened from the outside, or rather, it was ripped off. The creak of tearing metal slammed them back down to reality, and Lana was both relieved and terrified by what came next.

Clark's head entered the space of the doorway, but his face was nothing like Lana had ever seen it. His left cheekbone looked swollen. Blood and dirt coated the other side of his face, and his lips were split in multiple places. Even his nose was crooked. He looked beaten and battered, which was something Lana didn't think was possible. Her brain refused to acknowledge what her eyes were telling it, to internalize the implications of the problem. It was so much worse than what she'd initially believed. The extent of the danger was now clear. Who or whatever was responsible for the global attacks was, at least, just as powerful as Clark.

Lana locked eyes with him. A look of surprised shock hit his face, but disappeared in an instant. "Is anyone badly injured?"

He was met with tentative shaking heads. Lionel looked around at the others.

"No, I think we're all fine now," he said. Clark nodded solemnly.

"Thank you," breathed Lana, eyes boring into him. She wanted to say more, something that would tell him everything she felt in that moment. An ‘ _I love you’_ or a ‘ _be careful.’_ But she couldn’t, not in present company. So she stayed silent, and looked him in the eyes with everything she was. He gave her a small, unguarded smile in return.

"You're welcome.” He then addressed the cabin as a whole. "You need to get out of the open as quickly as possible. Get somewhere inside and stay there. Don't-"

Clark's head whipped to the side, attention suddenly elsewhere. Then he was gone in a blur that sucked the wind out of the cabin. A flash of bright red met Lana's eyes again, but this time the glow didn't stop. A huge, powerful jet of pure energy assaulted the ground several meters, scorching everything it fell upon. Lana could feel the heat from where they were, and was desperate in equal parts to escape the area and stay rooted to where she was.

The blast disappeared as quickly as it came, followed by a loud boom and a thunderous quake of the ground beneath them. Looking out of the doorway she saw Clark and another man, older and dressed in a black suit somewhat reminiscent of Clark's own brighter one, engaged in a brutal brawl. She'd never seen Clark in any kind of physical altercation before. The flagrant display of violence was enough to petrify her, and now she understood why he was always so careful. Destruction looked so _easy_ for him.

Clark planted the other man's face into the ground and hammered his torso with his fists. He held him down as the other struggled against him, and he looked back up in Lana's direction.

"GO!" he screamed. 

Finally they listened, each of them clamoring out of the broken helicopter in haste as Clark lost his grip on his adversary. He gave Clark as good as he got, and for the first time Lana felt true fear for her boyfriend. Clark was suddenly flung backwards at incredible speed and disappeared from Lana's view. The older man shifted his focus to their group.

They'd already begun to run the length of the grass toward the end of the park, but despite giving so much effort Lana knew the futility of attempting to escape. She glanced back to see him marching forward. His eyes flickered and then glowed fully red.

Lana's entire body seized up and she threw herself against Lena, who was running beside her. She hit the ground and rolled against her as they were engulfed in another flash of light. There was no pain and she wasn't dead yet, so Lana scrambled to her feet again and pulled Lena with her to race parallel to the line of scorched ground that began mere feet from where they fell. They ran along the smell of burnt grass and soil and Lana looked around frantically to find the others. She couldn't see where the pilot had gotten to. The Luthors were several meters away to the right, running just as they were. Lex was the farthest away, and Lionel brought up the rear. Lana worried for him; despite his speed, his gait was choppy and disjointed.

The ground shook. Lana didn't dare to look back again, but heard more sounds of struggle.

*******************************

A frustrated growl ripped through Clark's throat. Zod was ruthless and yielding, and it took every ounce of focus for Clark to defend against his attacks. He'd known early on that in terms of fighting and battle prowess he was completely outclassed. More unsettlingly, Zod was learning how to access his abilities very quickly. But there was a silver lining for Clark. Despite Zod's muscle memory and tactical mind, he did not have the finesse required to use his abilities on Clark's level of control. That made him sloppy, and even unfocused at times.

Zod had attacked any and all humans they'd come across during their battle across the city. Admittedly, Clark had been pummeled severely during a lot of it, and hated that he'd been helpless to prevent any more damage. He'd already let Zod make it way too far uptown, and despite saving who he could, there had still been casualties. Clark thanked the universe that, despite not knowing she was in that falling helicopter, he was able to save Lana from death. He'd hoped she'd gotten far away, but somehow she'd ended up in the middle of it. Now his sense of urgency was at an all-time high. There had to be something he could do to get this over with quickly.

Getting Zod away from the city was imperative. Thankfully, Centennial Park was deserted now and Lana’s group had cleared the next block, but with Kryptonian speed and strength it didn’t matter. There was only one thing Clark was sure would work, but he’d have to do it right.

Clark tensed all over as Zod descended on him again and focused on dodging. By now he had an idea of Zod’s fighting style. The general favored head and body shots like a boxer, and had a penchant for grappling. He used heat vision but sporadically, more for outright destruction than well-thought out attacks. To Clark it was obvious. Zod had never trained with powers, and so subconsciously relied on purely physical movement. But that wasn’t the most important thing. Zod had been an image of rage and focused fury since Faora and the warship had been forced back to the Phantom Zone. He wasn’t worried about finishing him off. He wanted to make Clark suffer.

And Clark could make that work in his favor.

Zod moved in close and missed Clark with a tight uppercut. He stepped and shifted forward to cross with an elbow, but didn’t connect. Clark stayed on his toes and floated inches above the ground, twisting and swerving out of Zod’s reach in flight instead of shifting his weight back and forth. The lack of contact was getting to Zod, and the speed and strength of his attacks increased with each passing second. Clark kept up, but soon took an elbow to the side of his head that sent him across the park.

Zod was on him again in an instant, slamming him back down as he tried to get up. A knee dropped on Clark's chest knocked the wind out of him, and Zod used the opening to mount him fully. Clark suffered an onslaught of blows to the head. His vision blurred against the blood and dirt, and the throbbing in his skull reached new levels of intensity. Zod yelled something at him, but he couldn't make out what it was. If he didn't get out of this hold, he'd be rendered unconscious soon.

Clark stopped struggling, but did his best to get himself back into focus. As Zod retracted his fist for another punch, Clark gritted his teeth and threw everything he had into one move. A savage blast of heat vision detonated at point-blank range and caught the general full in the face. Zod was launched upward and away from Clark, and seemed to make no move to float or stop his path back down to the ground. He crashed against the grass in a heap.

Clark wasted no time, getting up and shaking off the pain. Flying toward Zod, he reached into the pocket of his suit located on his lower back and retrieved the Zeta teleporter. It was smashed and dented, but miraculously not broken. Not for the first time Clark was grateful for the durability of Kryptonian metals.

Zod, battered and burnt but not unconscious, struggled to his feet. Clark gripped him by the arm as tightly as he could muster, then activated the device.

The Fortress was the same as always, save for Kelex’s flying vessel. The whistle of the arctic winds outside the monument filled the open space and for a moment Clark let himself relax. His plan had worked. He’d gotten Zod away from civilians, and got him to the one place on Earth where he’d have the upper hand. All he had to do now was see it through.

Clark looked at the general. Zod was hunched over on his knees, breathing heavily and dripping blood onto the crystal floor. That last attack caused serious damage, but still he held on. Clark took a deep breath, taking mental stock of his own injuries. He was healing as expected, but slowly. Neither was in great shape, but it was clear to Clark that after everything that transpired today, Zod was finally at his mercy.

 _ <It’s over, Zod,> _ said Clark with finality. His tone held an edge bolstered by conviction and exhaustion. _ <You’ve lost.> _

_ <If I can still draw breath,> _ rasped the general, _ <then it is not over.> _

Zod pushed off the ground and flung himself at Clark, but the younger Kryptonian retaliated with a swift thrust of his leg to slam his boot against Zod’s neck. Still the general pressed on.

 _ <This place...a piece of Krypton in a foreign world. No doubt preserved and gifted to you by your father, and still you renounce your home! You would have it fade into the unconscious memory of the universe.> _ This time Zod did not attack, but latched onto Clark’s arms with an anguished look in his eyes. _ <Why?> _

Clark gave Zod a look of pity, and wanted to sympathize. But he remembered all that had happened in the past several hours, all he had learned from the archives, and decided the awful taste in his mouth was too fresh to ignore. Earth had always been his home. Krypton had been gone since before he could walk. Having wondered for so long where he came from, finally finding the answer _had_ been satisfying, but it never brought him the solace he craved. It never brought the emotion or the warmth of belonging. Everything he learned was just information, and the longer it went on, the more he thought about Krypton in the context of Earth and what he could do for this planet. For Zod, Clark understood the immense loss he felt. But for Krypton itself, he felt nothing at all.

 _ <Krypton had its chance.> _ Clark looked at Zod with airy detachment. He'd already tried to offer Zod help, and suffered for that mistake. He would not be moved again. _< And so did you.> _

Zod finally made it to his feet, but Clark would not indulge him with more fighting. He had had enough.

"Kelex," said Clark solemnly, "you there?"

 _"Yes, Kal,"_ came the robotic voice immediately. Zod's attention diverted at its name, but Clark wasn't surprised. Having known his father, he would have recognized the artificial intelligence.

"Can you activate the phantom drive in my ship remotely?"

_"Yes, but without my vessels I cannot help operate the ship. It will have to be done manually."_

"That's fine. It won't be necessary."

Silence fell upon them. Zod's expression turned to one of apprehension, obviously uneasy regarding the conversation in a language he didn't speak. Kelex answered.

_"I see."_

Clark surged forward and shoved his fist into Zod's side, eliciting a muffled crack as his ribs gave way. Slipping around behind him, Clark brought his forearms down atop the general's shoulders to force him to his knees and into a choke hold.

Zod twisted and struggled against Clark's grip, but couldn't gain the strength or leverage to wrench himself free. Gasps and wheezes turned into strangled screams as the general put everything he could into desperate movements. But it was not enough.

The Fortress became quieter and quieter. Zod's flailing slowed. Yells became grunts. Grunts became labored breaths. The wind outside the layers of crystal howled and ebbed, slipping into just a whisper, and then there was nothing.

General Zod went heavily limp, and Clark dragged him across the open area by the main console and up onto the platform that held his ship. He opened the ovoid-shaped vessel and dumped the unconscious Zod inside. 

"Turn it on, Kelex."

He got no answer from the AI, but it complied. The object that brought him to Earth shimmered and flickered out of this plane, and did not return.

Clark stared at where his ship used to be. He felt physically tired. Never had he taxed his body anywhere near as much as he had today. Continually using his powers, fighting, and getting hurt took a toll much greater than expected. But it was over now. He could rest.

With a deep breath, Clark sat down on the edge of the platform. For a few moments, the Fortress was silent and still. Clark took it in, everything around him, and felt a twinge of guilt and sorrow.

"Thanks, Kelex," he said aloud. "I couldn't have done it without you."

The response was immediate and expected. _"You're welcome, Kal."_

Clark stood and ambled back toward the clearing by the control console to retrieve the Zeta teleporter. A mirthless smile touched his face. "Well...see you around."

He activated the device and disappeared. Kelex answered anyway.

_"Goodbye, Kal."_

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback would be veryyy much appreciated! A quick comment or kudos or whichever :) Tell me what sucks and what doesn't, you know?


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